
I LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




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OTHER FOLK, 


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BY MRS. NATHANIEL CONKLIN- 

(JENNIE M. DRINKWATER.) 


I. Tessa Wadsworth’s Discipline $1.50 

II. Rue’s Helps. 12mo 1.50 

III. Electa. 12mo 1.50 

IV. Fifteen; or, Lydia’s Happenings. . . . 1.50 

V. Bek’s First Corner. 12mo 1.50 

VI. Miss Prudence. 12mo 1.50 

VII. The Story of Hannah. 12mo 1.50 

VHI. That Quisset House. 12mo 1.50 

IX. Isobel’s Between Times. 12mo 1.50 

X. Rizpah’s Heritage. 12rao 1.50 

XI. From Flax to Linen. 12mo 1.50 

XII. Fourfold. 12mo . 1.50 

XIII. Marigold. 12mo 1.50 

XIV. Other Folk. 12nio 1.50 

XV. Only Ned. 12mo 1.25 

XVI. Not Bread Alone ; or, Miss Helen’s Neigh- 

bors. 12ino 125 

XVII. Fred and Jeanie, and How They Learned 

About God. 12mo 1.25 


ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, 

New Yoke. 



Other Folk 


BY 

MRS. NATHANIEL CONKLIN, 

\* 

(JENNIE M. DRINKWATER.) 



“the world is so full of other folk.” 



NEW YORK: 


ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS, 

530 Broadway. 

1890. 


•px^ 


Copyright, 1890, by 
Robert Carter & Brothers. 


TO 

tfte <Sirti8 

WJ/O HA VE WRITTEN TO ME. 





CONTENTS. 


1. Her Choice 9 

11. Diantha’s 16 

III. One Day Longer .... 42 

IV. Under the Apple Trees , . 82 

V. Ironing Day 115 

VI. By the Sea and in the Field . 131 

VII. The Thing Olive Wanted . . 145 

VIII. The Things Olive Did Not Say. 158 

IX. Yesterday and To-Day . . 174 

X. Underneath 183 

XI. Another One .... 212 

XII. When it Rained . . . .221 

XIII. When it Cleared . . . 241 

XIV. Her Hidden Life. . . . 261 


8 


CONTENTS. 


XV. A Full World . 

• 

. 315 

XVI. That Last Day . 

• 

. 352 

XVII. Days and Nights . 

• 

. 399 

XVIII. Another Week 

• 

. 404 

XIX. The Good Land . 

• 

. 429 


OTHER FOLK. 


I. 


HER CHOICE. 

“ God make my life a little song, 

That comforteth the sad ; 

That helpeth others to he strong, 

And makes the singer glad.” 

Some people seem to have a choice in their 
lives. I have seen girls, I see them every day, 
where I would be, and doing what I would.^^ 

Olive Vanema spoke bitterly. She was not 
sweet ; her mother told her so every time she was 
out of patience with her. 

It was her seventeenth birthday j her mother 
had been ill all night and kept her awake j an 
hour before the clock struck six she fell asleep — 
oh, how wearily ! 


9 


10 


OTHER FOLK, 


When the clock struck its six warning strokes the 
dulled ears heard no sound 5 at five minutes past 
six her father^s voice called her roughly. He must 
have his strong, hot coffee at seven, and he had 
heard no sound in the chamber above his head. 

It was raining, a chilly rain, and she must go to 
school, seven blocks, without rubbers, and her 
books had not been opened last night because of 
her mother, and her head was so dizzy ! 

No one would care that it was her birthday. If 
God cared, would He give her a birthday present ? 

No one had cared all day. 

In the evening Mr. Provost called to see her 
father 5 he always asked to see her father as though 
he cared to see no one else; but perhaps he was 
thus pointed because it was hard to see her father 
alone in such a small house. Her mother’s bed- 
room opened out of the parlor, and down-stairs were 
the cellar and a room she used as a kitchen — she 
supposed it was a part of the cellar — and over the 
parlor were her sleeping room and one other room 
they rented to an old man who lived by himself 
and was his own housekeeper. Her uncle had 
advised them to let the old man have this room, 
to lessen the rentj Olive took his advice becaiftse 


HER CHOICE, 


11 


he paid the rent, but it was only until she should be 
out of schoolj then she would have a larger house 
to breathe in, and no strange tread should make the 
house unhomelike. As Mr. Provost went out, after 
half an hour^s talk with her father, she met him in 
the hall j she was bringing up-stairs her mother’s 
supper — tea and toast and lemon-jelly. 

She had been crying — oh, the things she had 
been crying about ! 

She did not remember, when she thought over 
the conversation afterward, how she came to say to 
him, a stranger, whom she associated with her 
uncle, (and that in itself spoiled her pleasure in his 
genial manner and fine appearance) that she had no 
choice in her life. She had been thinking it all 
day 5 it must have spoken itself. 

You do have a choice,” in insisted. 

Not my own choice.” 

Whose choice have you then ? ” 

He was standing with his hat in his hand j his 
dripping umbrella he left on the stoop. 

My father’s, I suppose, and my mother’s.” 

She spoke hopelessly ; she was too weary to care 
now what she said. 

” Poor child,” he murmured. 


12 


OTHER FOLK. 


He had a little girl at home, a little girl with no 
mother j he was sorry for this girl with a mother 
and with the father he had been talking with half 
an hour. 

The father refused a situation offered him 
through his brother, the uncle Olive did not like, 
for the single reason that it was not quite up to 
the work I have been accustomed to, you know.’^ 

Mr. Provost looked down at this girl, who, when 
her school-days were over, would be glad to accept 
any situation to give bread and luxuries to her 
invalid mother and idle, weak-willed father. 

There was strength in her face, and truth and 
steadfastness in the eyes that were turned from him 
because of tears of which she was ashamed. 

I am rebellious. Pm not one bit good to- 
day. I was furious this morning when father 
called me. It was another girPs seventeenth birth- 
day and her father gave her a watch and her 
mother wrote her the sweetest poem. I don’t care 
for the watch or the poemj I only wanted some- 
body to be glad.” 

Don’t you know of any one who is glad ? 

No.” 

Aren’t you glad yourself ? ” 


HER CHOICE, 


13 


The sobs were kept resolutely back. Her 

mother’s tea would be cold, and she would fret and 

« ' 

call her slow and stupid; but she wanted somebody 
to know how hard and sad and bad the day had 
been. She knew how he loved his own little girl. 
What do you want all your life — most ? ” 

Oh, so many things ; I want them all — most.” 
Do you know what God wants all your life 
most ? ” 

'<No.” 

It was strange that He wanted anything out of 
her life. 

Would you like to know ? ” 

Yes,” with a quick sob of longing. 

Only last Sunday she had confessed Christ.” 
She loved to think of it that way. But she did 
not know what He wanted most for her to do — or 
be, or have — that is, if He cared for her to have 
anything but disappointment. 

I do not know in any special way ; you know 
better than I can tell you the one way — but I am 
sure of this, He has something special for you to do. 
He is training you that He may trust you with His 
work. You are having unusual training. He 
shows you what He thinks of you by giving it to 


14 


OTHER FOLK. 


you j it may grow harder as each birthday comes, I 
think it will. If you want His work, you must ac- 
cept his will j you cannot have one without the 
other. Repeat that j I want to be sure that you 
imderstand.” 

If I want His work I must accept His will/^ 

In the modidation of her tones he saw how much 
it was to her. 

Do you want His work % 

‘‘ Yes,” with a flashing look towards him. I 
want it — most.” 

Then you want His will — most ? ” 

Yes,” without any hesitation. 

His will for you is what He chooses for you, 
and then the work of the Lord shall prosper in your 
handP 

This time she made no answer ; she was think- 
ing that His will was as hard as it could be. 

Good night,” he said cheerily. 

He opened the door and took up his dripping 
umbrella. She tasted the tea j it was cold. 

She hastened down to her little cellar kitchen 
and poured fresh tea into the cup ; she was sorry 
the other tea was wasted j but she could drink it 
herself sometime. 


HER CHOICE, 


15 


That night she wrote the words he asked her to 
repeat in the back of her Geometry. 

On her next birthday she found the words, and on 
the next and the next ; she cut out the leaf, she 
wished to have the hurried, penciled writing, and 
folded it and kept it in her pocket-book. 

When she was thirty-five, in nothing else did 
God seem so good to her, besides forgiving her 
sins, as in giving her work to do. She was so 
satisfied with it that it was like working in the 
Kingdom of Heaven. 

Her will was flexible, bending as God’s will bent 
itj as her will bent to Him, His work had bent to 
her, becoming not a part of herself, but herself, her 
only self. 


II. 


DIANTHA’S. 

The beauty and interest that we find in external objects 
must first^pxist in our own souls.” 

“Partaking of God’s nature, we shall love all that God_ 
loves, and be interested in all in which He is interested.” 

— Hugh Macmillan. 

Glancing through the doorway Diantha saw the 
doctor stop on the door-stone to speak to Miss 
Vanema. With her work in her hand, she could 
not waste time in dropping it, she hurried out into 
the entry and was in time to hear his first words. 

A keen Frenchman who visited America made 
the remark that the chief defect in our educated 
young people was their perpetual self-contempla- 
tion.^’ 

I know that it runs to evil among some of us 

older people,” replied Miss Vanema. ^^I am a 
16 


DIANTHA^S. 


17 


firm believer in the truth that whatever we are we 
grow more so — and I am dreadfully afraid of 
becoming ^ more so ^ in this sad particular.” 

Diantha stationed herself behind Miss Vanema^s 
camp-chair, that she might hear the rest of it. 

I would rather know more about other folks 
than about myself,” was the frank admission, so 
frankly given that the doctor joined in Miss Van- 
ema^s laugh. 

The little woman behind 'the chair was made of 
interrogation points from head to foot j they bristled 
in the air about her every time she opened her lips. 

Her favorite exclamation, I want to know! ” was 
the literal and exact truth. She always wanted to 
know, and she usually found out. The gentleman 
who quoted the keen Frenchman's remark about our 
educated young people lifted his hat, then stepped 
off the broad door-stone and went down the gravel 
walk to his carriage. He was the new doctor at 
Monroe j he called to see Diantha^s mother two or 
three times a week 5 Diantha had decided, and told 
somebody (she always told somebody), that he liked 
to stop and speak to Miss Vanemaj he never said 
such things to her. He seemed to be speaking in a 
different tongue when he talked to Miss Vanema. 


18 


OTHER FOLK. 


How he happened to speak about the Frenchman 
she would like to know j it seemed to be the con- 
tinuation of something; he was hitting Miss Vanema 
and her solitary and unsocial ways, she was sure, 
but it was a mistake to call her young people;’’ 
any person, even if he wasn’t a doctor, couldn’t 
make a mistake in her age. With that hair ! 

She was sure she had kept him. 

Even the girls found there was something very 
keeping about her ; she had heard of people being 
taking — she smiled at her own humor in the play 
upon the word — but this woman was taking and 
keeping. 

That was good enough to repeat, and she resolved 
to repeat it. 

Miss Vanema, you’ll take cold out here.” 

^^Oh, no,” said Miss Vanema. 

She was Miss Vanema to every one at Diantha’s ; 
even her letters — the letters that Diantha happened 
to see — ^were addressed in this fashion, with no 
familiar first name or initials. She had been Miss 
Vanema so long that she was forgetting that she 
had ever been any one else ; the two who used to 
call her by the name she loved could never speak 
it now loud enough for her dull ear to catch the 


DIANJ'HA'S. 


19 


sound. She knew they spoke it among themselves 
and to the Lord. 

Diantha went back and picked up her work; as she 
sat sewing, straining her eyes over the buttonholes 
in Mollie^s dress, for she would not acknowledge 
her fifty-one years by putting on glasses, she 
wanted to know all about Miss Vanema. 

Miss Vanema was not straining her eyes over 
her fine printed page ; she had slipped on her gold- 
rimmed eye-glasses. 

What were people ybr, Diantha asked herself, if 
not to let people know who they were and what they 
were ; the Lord said you mustn^t keep your light 
hidden, and wasn’t yourself a part of your light ? 

What Miss Vanema was, was easily discoverable ; 
she was the most eccentric old maid that she had 
ever seen, and there were seventeen of them 
between her house and Monroe ; who she was, who 
knew % 

She didn’t belong to the Vanemas who made soap, 
or to the Vanemas who had a shipyard, for she had 
said so. 

Nobody else had such a trick of evading ques- 
tions ; she would be angry at any body else and 
think they thought she meant to be inquisitive. It 


20 


OTHER FOLK. 


wasn^t queer that she wouldn t tell you the year she 
was horn j a woman^s age was every womaii^s own 
secret. 

All she liked people to know about dates in her 
private life was that she was married at seventeen. 
It was queer Miss Vaneraa wasn^t married j she 
was pretty enough — ^or had been j she wasn’t 
homely even now. Miss Vanema gave Diantha 
something more to live for ; she was all beat out ” 
with spring cleaning that day the carriage drove up 
from Monroe and the tall lady in brown inquired for 
Mrs. Van Der Zee, and said that she had been 
directed to her as some one who might take her to 
board for a month. 

If she had not taken a fancy to her she would 
have refused ; but instantly she became curious 
about her. The guest chamber was in good order, 
Molly was not going to school, there was fresh 
bread in the house. Why yes, she answered, she 
might stay to supper now if she wanted to. 

]\Tiss Vanema wanted to 
It must be dreadful to have a secret and be 
hiding,” Diantha said, after that first supper, to her 
sister Hannah. Her face is as innocent as a baby’s.” 

Hannah suggested that it might be a happy 


DIANTHAS, 


21 


secret. Diantha looked grim: that would not be 
worth finding out. 

Every morning, as soon as it was warm enough, 
Miss Vanema took possession of that huge front 
door-stone ; it faced the south, and she loved the 
south j she told herself that her ship was sailing in 
from the south. 

Diantha had never seen any one sit out of doors 
as Miss Vanema did : she said to her after three 
days that she had never seen any one before who 
had time to do it 5 most folk’s work was in the 
house. 

That was another queer thing about her; there 
was scarcely any thing about her that wasn’t queer. 

Unconscious of the disturbance in the small world 
of Diantha’s mind that she was creating and 
furnishing by being simply herself as she had been 
all her life, Olive Vanema closed her book, and 
with it in her hand, walked around the comer of 
the house. 

Going to the post-office!” snapped Diantha, 
biting off her thread. Can’t trust anybody else 
to get her letters 1 ” 

Every afternoon the mail brought something for 
Miss Vanema to think about; it was her only con- 


22 


OTHER FOLK. 


nection with the world outside of her self 5 she had 
not yet grown familiar with the world at Diantha^s. 
She went along the beaten path across the field, 
climbed a fence and stepped down a gravelly bank 
into the narrow roadj this road was more like a 
lane then country roads usually are 5 after a stretch 
of the lane, she found another diverging path, this 
time through the woods, which opened on the rail- 
road opposite the small station; at the station was 
her destination, the post-office. 

This daily afternoon walk to the post=office was 
another of Diantha’s grievances. Why should any 
well woman who had a life to live waste two hours 
every day in going to the post-office ? Beside, it 
took hours of her time to read and answer so 
many letters ; one morning on Miss Vanema’s table 
she counted fifteen white envelopes, piled up and 
all stamped ; it must take a great many stamps, too. 
And she was not rich ; she could see how she had 
to count her dollars and cents. How many letters 
she brought from the mail she had not yet learned ; 
her hands seemed always brimful. There must 
be plenty of other people somewhere who did 
nothing but board and write letters. 

Diantha was not inq^uisitive, and would not break 


DIANTHA'S. 


23 


a seal any sooner than she would burst into the 
church treasury, she would have told you, but the 
letter on the top bore a gentleman’s name — -not 
Vanema, either— and she could not help seeing that 
it was Rev. Harrison Provost, and then that one 
slipped off, and the next envelope was addressed to 
Miss Harriet Peters, and the third, that was a gentle- 
man^s name too — Andrew Croft. Diantha never 
forgot names. 

A step in the hall prevented further innocent 
investigation, and she never knew whether or not 
the twelve remaining envelopes were masculine or 
feminine. These three were in different states — 
New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts. * 

The step in the hall was Miss Vanema^s. 
Diantha opened the door to tell her that she came 
up to examine the covering of her loungej if 
she stayed she must find prettier cretonne and 
cover it again for her. Miss Vanema did not say 
whether or not she would stay. 

Toward sunset on this afternoon in early May, 
Miss Vanema returned from her walk with her 
hands brimful as usual, but they were too heavily 
laden with pussy willow, the fringed blossoms of 
maple and the green buds of the lilac for Diantha^s 


24 : 


OTHER FOLK. 


alert eyes to discover tlie dozens of envelopes she 
was confident must be tucked away somewhere. 

^^This is all the spring I found/^ she said, holding 
up her full handsj ^^your springs are late.’^ 

^^This is a late spring; that^s why I warn you 
about sitting out of doors. 

Warnings never did me any good/’ replied 
Miss Vanema with a little laugh. have 

jumped out of the frying-pan into the fire many a 
time when I wanted to jump back into the frying- 
pan again.” 

I stay in the frying-pan/’ reproved Diantha. 

“ Then you will never know what the fire is 
like/’ rejoined Miss Vanema, lightly. 

I know it bums.” 

Yes, it burns ! ” 

I don’t believe those green things are all you 
got.” 

^^No, I got some sounds. The turtle, the frog 
and the lizard are about.” 

^^How do you know one from the other, you 
city — woman.” 

Girl ” was on Diantha’s lips, but she refrained ; 
it would be an acknowledgment that she did not 
know her age. 


DIANTHA'S. 


25 


Oh IVe read and been toldj I spent one sum- 
mer in the country when I was a girl, one happy 
summer.^’ 

My summers have all been in the country ! I’m 
sorry you took your walk for nothing.’’ 

I did not. I never do any thing for nothing,” 
Miss Vanema retorted, with a tantalizing brighten- 
ing of the eyes. 

You don’t seem to be homesick — away from so 
many friends, too,” observed Diantha, watching 
her as she arranged the green things in her fingers. 

I am glad I do not seem to be,” was the quiet 
reply. 

Come to supper, then,” invited the hostess, 
with a slight asperity, feeling somehow baffled 
and thrown off; Miss Vanema’s tone was as innocent 
as though she did not understand that she was 
questioned. Diantha had not thought of it before, 
but perhaps Miss Vanema was not very bright. 

The letters Diantha’s eyes did not discover were 
in Miss Vanema’s pocket; three of them, each 
beckoning her different ways, and each giving ex- 
cellent reasons for the differing ways. 

And here she was, not only among strangers, but 
among such strangers ! — heartsick at times, with a 


26 


OTHER FOLK. 


homesickness for the home that was broken up; 
this place was as unfamiliar to her and its ways as 
foreign as a farmhouse in Sweden or Russia would 
be ; and she had read about Sweden and Russia, but 
she had never read about Diantha’s. 

It was comical, she had smiled as she put it in 
her letters, but to herself she called her hostess 
what the neighborhood generally called her : Dian- 
tha. No other name seemed a part of her. 

She was Di to her husband, Dianthy to her 
father and mother, and Dianth to her five sisters. 

Miss Vanema could not think of the Lord speak- 
ing to her by any other name. 

(Perhaps I should apologize for this thought of 
Miss Vanema^s, but she had grown queer, living 
so much inside of herself and with the Lord in His 
word; He was more to her than any other living 
being. This will help you understand without 
further explanation many of the things she said and 
did.) 

After supper, with the three letters in her pocket. 
Miss Vanema went up-stairs; she found the lamp on 
her table lighted. Diantha was afraid she didn^t 
understand kerosene and might burn the house down 
with it ; her chamber was the guest-chamber ; 


DIANTHA^S. 


27 


97lien she decided to stay all summer she would he 
moved across the hall — still that suggestion about 
the lounge gave promise of keeping this large airy 
chamber. 

To-night she must decide to stay or not to stay. 

Diantha’s was the fourth home that might be had 
for the choosing — and four dollars a week, with her 
washing thrown in. 

With the other places there was no consideration 
of four dollars a week ; everything was awaiting 
her acceptance. 

Diantha had guessed correctly ; she had to count 
her dollars and cents, sometimes she had to count 
them twice. 

Something has come over her to-night,^^ Dian- 
tha remarked in her tone of understanding human 
nature, addressing the supper table as the door 
closed behind the tall figure in dark gray. 

Diantha did not know people intuitively, (as she 
thought she did) ; she had to study and learn them, 
and the lesson was never learned. 

The voice was high and clear, despite the small 
chest from which it issued, and Miss Vanema over- 
heard the words. 

As she turned the flame higher and sat dov/n at 


28 


OTHER FOLK. 


her table, she wished that something would come 
over her j she was not sufficient for herself. 

But God never made known in any supernatural 
way what He had revealed in His natural way, and 
she had her common sense, the intelligence all her 
years had quickened ; and she had her inclination — 
the inclination He had turned this way and that — 
and she was so sure that she had His constant guid- 
ance that she did not ask it in words as she sat 
leaning her elbows on the table looking down at 
her three letters. 

If she might only wait — hesitate — dawdle a 
month longer ! But what had this month of soli- 
tude shown her ? 

Not forty days, as Moses was alone with God, 
but thirty days of self-communion and God-com- 
munion. She was more undecided to-night as to 
what was best to do than that first night she came 
and lay awake with the strangeness all about her. 

She was relieved that replies by the next mail 
were demanded to two of them — and the third, it 
would be cruel to keep that new old friend in sus- 
pense. 

Yes, the three letters must be written to-night, 
and she must go herself to the early mail. Mr. 


DIANTHA'S. 


29 


Van Der Zee would never think it worth his while 
to go especially to the post-office to take such an 
unimportant thing as a letter. 

The observation of the keen-witted Frenchman 
flashed through her : Perpetual self-contempla- 
tion.” 

Why not let something outside of herself de-» 
cide ^ 

There was certainly more outside of herself than 
inside that small citadel, Olive Vanema. What fun 
to tell the doctor that he had helped her by his 
chance quotation ! She was still enough of a girl 
to think what fun ! ” Enough of a girl with the 
white threads so woven in among the brown that 
Leila Provost had described her as having a veil 
of silver meshes thrown lightly over her hair ; the 
waves of the brown hair were all the more beau- 
tiful, shining underneath. 

Olive had been a brown girl ; to-night she was a 
brown woman j the red of her cheeks flushed 
through brown, her eyebrows were as brown as the 
hair underneath the silver veil; cheek and chin 
were as youthfully rounded as ten years ago, and 
her long-lashed brown eyes — if one had seen but 
the eyes alone as I saw them one Sunday morning 


30 


OTHER FOLK. 


in church, they would have guessed her a shy, 
sweet, steadfast girl of fifteen. 

She was twice fifteen, with five years addea. 
Her eyes took me by surprise. I do not remember 
anything of that morning’s service but this woman’s 
eyes ; were they not a part of it ? 

The eyes, very sweet and steadfast, but more 
than troubled, anxious, were fixed upon the lett “ts 
she had laid upon the table with her name up] .or 
most. 

It was her name ; they were meant for her. God 
must have meant them for her. He meant her to 
choose — and refuse. 

It was the refusing that lent the anxious look to 
her eyes. The refusing was decided upon ; had 
she not come to Diantha’s for this reason among 
others, to escape the question this letter had put 
with such tremendous earnestness; and there it 
was facing her. She could not escape the conse- 
quences of last winter’s friendship with Andrew 
Croft. The consequences to herself were not 
alarming ; a summer added of such open friendship, 
with its serious walks and talks, would leave her 
unscathed ; but he was different — he was a man, 
and she knew nothing of men outside of books. 


DIANTHA^S. 


31 


She talked thus to herself as she scanned his 
firm writing of her name : Miss Olive Vanema. It 
was a business hand, with self-confidence in every 
stroke. 

And then to parry the rush of painful memories, 
she compared the penmanship with that of the others ; 
one had an ugly V. and the other a handsome O. 

The three letters had stirred her deeply ; now 
that eye and lip were under no inspection she gave 
them their natural way, and the lip quivered, and 
the eyes filled. 

Ten years ago, when she was young, that third 
letter (it ranked third-rate in its importance as it 
affected herself) would have made a change in her 
life — if she had belonged to herself. She had 
never belonged to herself since she was ten years 
old ; it was then that she made herself understand 
that she must live for her father and mother — her 
invalid mother and spendthrift father. 

But she had not known Andrew Croft when she 
was young and impressible 5 it would not have been 
for his happiness then, for she did not have herself 
to give, and now when she had herself to give she 
did not have herself to give to him — ^for she did not 
love him. 


32 


OTHER FOLK. 


She was not young and impressible, she told her^ 
self, but she could not give herself, even at her 
age, and she smiled at the words she did not half 
believe, except at lovers dear bidding. So that was 
settled and out of the way. She liked to have 
things out of the way of herself. As Diantha would 
put it, Andrew Croft had offered himself” to her. 
The pride and humility of his letter touched her 5 
she liked him the better for it 5 still she simply 
liked him and wished he had not thought of writing 
that letter. 

When she was seventeen a love akin to this had 
been thrust upon her, and she had refused with in- 
dignation ; how dared anybody ? 

There had been other times since, she remem- 
bered wearily, and she had not cared to be made 
happy, or to be made unhappy, and now, with a 
great difference, for she liked this man, it had to 
come again, when she was so old, almost thirty-six, 
with white hair this minute tumbling dovm over 
her eyes, and she had to write the answer. 

It was eighteen years since she began to take care 
of her father and mother: no wonder she felt old. 
But being not young and out here in the country 
did not put her out of the world, only in Heaven 


DIANTHA^S. 


33 


would she be enough out of the world for questions 
like this not to be asked and answered. 

And then her thoughts ran on, as she had a way 
of letting them do when she was troubled, and she 
remembered the old lady she boarded with that 
happy summer she taught a country school j she 
came to her one afternoon after school with a let- 
ter in her hand and such a comical and half- 
ashamed expression in her face: ^^Miss Vanema, 
I^m very sorry to trouble you, but I haven^t written 
a letter for ten years and I don’t like people to 
know my business and ridicule me — and him j but 
I can trust you. Just tell him that I am too old to 
think of such a thing, and have had my own way too 
long, and Pm sorry he misses his wife so, but I 
can’t think of it a minute.” 

She smiled as she saw again, the wrinkled old 
face, and wished she could tell Andrew Croft the 
story ; she could not think of it a minute.” 

And then the offending letter, with its self- 
confident writing of her name, was pushed aside — 
answered. 

Even with the burden that had fallen on her 
young years she had cared for her own happiness 
all her life 5 she had wished for it, worked for it, 


34 


OTHER FOLK. 


prayed for it j by caring so vehemently she had not 
gained it 5 in her new phase of perpetual self-contem- 
plation she was reproaching herself for sinful ingrati- 
tude when she was low-spirited 5 she was under ob- 
ligation to the Giver of her life to be, at least, quietly 
and meekly happy j she could not hope to be ra- 
diantly and girlishly joyous again j and now, after 
this month of withdrawal from her busy world, this 
time of studying herself and what God would have 
of her, she had a glimmer of the truth that there 
might be something better in the world, in the 
world of God^s making, than one^s own happi- 
ness. 

She had taken thought for this happiness, and had 
not got it — out of things 5 somehow, in this month of 
wandering about alone, and in listening to the care- 
taking talk of new people, old words with newest 
meaning had been born into her heart ; the meaning 
was born, it came as suddenly as the new birth some- 
times comes, and she knew she was a new creature. 

Talx no thought for your for — there was a 

reason 5 she had learned a little of the reason — 

Your life is hid with Christ in God. 

Without any thought for her own happiness, her 
decision should be made to-night 5 she knew which 


DIANTHA^S, 


35 


she would love best to do ; she knew she would 
choose busy idleness rather than work. 

All the happiness she sought (all she wished to 
seek) was to be happy in the way Christ was hap- 
py if He were happy ; if He were not, she did not 
wish to be, or she had thought so, sitting on the 
door-stone reading Faber^s Dryness in Prayer.^’ 
After her walk and with these letters from the 
world of happenings she was not so sure. 

But this was not answering the letters that must 
be answered. 

The third envelope was pushed still farther away 
from the others 5 she must think about these two. 
And staying with Diantha. She had forgotten 
Diantha^s. 

He seems to think I may be had for the ask- 
ing, she thought, half-admiring, half-indignant,^^ 
but it’s only God may be had for the asking.” 

Then one of the letters was drawn out of its 
envelope, and re-read with long pauses that held 
the weight of the pressing sentences. 

Don’t wait to think, come,” the letter opened 
in Harriet Peters’ lively style. need you, Olive 
Vanema. I have needed you ten years without 
knowing it, stupid that I am. Each solitary one 


36 


OTHER FOLK. 


of my twenty-five boarding pupils needs you and 
each one of the forty-two day-scholars needs you in 
a lesser degree. I know you, I know your re- 
sources. I want you for a house-mother — a 
beautiful mother that the girls would rave about. 
My time, I am sadly learning, is too fully taken up 
with the intellectual life of this girls’-world to give 
thought and time to the training they need twenty 
times more, and with their fashionable mothers 
may never get at all. 

It has been on my conscience nights unnum- 
bered that I fail the girls where they need educat- 
ing most. Had I a daughter, I would not send her 
to Miss Peters’ Young Ladies’ Seminary. 

You need never enter a class-room again. I 
want you in the home. Come and be yourself and 
my girls will be helped. Come and be to them 
what you would be to Syrian girls. For salary 
you shall have the room you always liked best, 
sharing with no one, and the finest of the wheat 
(boarding school wheat). Now if you are ever 
lonely or desolate again, whose fault will it be ? 

Come or write by return mail. If you are 
absolutely engaged elsewhere, I can get Sara Doug- 
las, who isn’t half the woman you are j she leaves 


DIANTHA^S. 


37 


town this week, unless I capture her. But I 
don’t want her.” 

Whose fault, indeed? It was most tempting. 
She loved work, she was rested for work. A year 
ago when two physicians had told her that their skill 
could do nothing for her and that they could but 
watch the progress of her disease, had she not 
promised the Lord who healeth all our diseases” 
that if He would give her life and health again she 
would give the strength of that life to Him j it 
should be His life. His life, for which she must 
take no anxious thought. W as that renewed strength 
for this work ? Or for this rest and recreation ? she 
asked, dropping a small sheet out of an ill-fitting en- 
velope. What a beginning again these opportuni- 
ties were j these opened doors, two of which she 
must shut with her own hand. It was like being 
young ! With her hair ! 

She laughed aloud in the joy of her heart, giving 
a look at the reflection of herself in the glass of 
the bureau. In the lamplight she saw a beautiful 
face. Very grateful and very humble, she covered 
the face with both hands, whispering : I thank 

thee for my face.” 

She was poor 5 she had been poor and hard' 


38 


OTHER FOLK. 


working all her life j she had so little to give ; she 
had but herself ; how could she but be glad that 
she was pleasant to look upon ? Perhaps these 
girls would be drawn to her because of it, and then 
she could be more perfectly the house-mother. 
Her ideal of motherhood was so high that no 
mother she had ever known had attained to 
it. 

Poor child, her own mother, a peevish, selfish 
invalid, with an unloving heart, had fallen so far 
below her daughter’s beautiful ideal that the name 

mother” in no way belonged to her. The second 
letter was reperused with the same thoughtful 
pauses *, there was nothing business-like in the 
hand or in the manner the business was set forth : 

^^Dear Miss Olive — Leila proposed it yester- 
day, and has given me no peace since. I cannot 
take her abroad again without a companion. She 
has such a remarkable genius for doing what she 
wills with herself that anxiety about her would be 
a weight upon my researches. I should continually 
be anxious about her. I suppose I shall be anxious 
if I leave her at home, she is such a fly-away. She 
dares not ask you herself, and promises her old 


DIANTHA^S. 


39 


father a dozen (extra) kisses if he will get Miss 
Olive for her. 

Your expenses will be paid from the hour you 
leave my house until the hour you return to it. 
Leila declares she will not sleep until she hears 
from you. Let her sleep as soon as you can. I 
I must sail the 17th inst. 

Your uncle’s old friend, and yours, 

Haerison Provost. ” 

Her uncle’s old friend was very dear to her, so 
was the girl, Leila. 

The other was work, this was pleasure ; a long 
summer of pleasure. Had she ever had in her life 
a long vacation? Hay school, night school, and 
Sunday school, with housework, sewing and nurs- 
ing between times and vacations of hard work — 
friends said it was no wonder that she broke down 
at last ; but was her new strength her very own ? 
For fifteen years she had supported her father and 
mother, then she had worked to pay their last 
expenses j while she was ill her father’s brother 
died, bequeathing to his spendthrift brother’s 
daughter his small property ; the income from it 
was about three hundred dollars j she had rested 
and been rich on this annuity. 


40 


OTHER FOLK. 


It was so surprising and so altogether delightful 
to eat bread and butter that she had not earned 
herself 5 the relief of having no bills to paj, of never 
being in debt was exquisite pain. Harrison Pro- 
vost was the guardian of her money, and she was 
the guardian of herself. There was work, there 
was pleasure ; and — why, there was Diantha’s ! 
She had forgotten that she might choose to stay at 
Diantha^s. 

She had forgotten Andrew Croft. Had his letter 
not been on the table with the others, she would not 
have remembered that she had forgotten him. 
How could she decide to-night f Outside of herself 
were many considerations and people. Was she 
not under obligation to her uncle^s old friend in 
whose house she had been ill ? And Harriet 
Peters, the friend of her girlhood, who had been 
chief adviser during her years of successful teach- 
ing ? But for her she would not have had that 
position as principal of the primary school. 

But — and here she turned to the consideration of 
herself, to that self-contemplation she had forever 
set aside — she had never had any time to herself, or 
life of her own ; Sara Douglas could take the girls 
for the remainder of the summer term and Leila — 


DIANTHA'S. 


41 


But she must sleep over Leila, the hy-away girl, 
who had no mother, who stepped so softly in and 
out of her chamber those long weeks. 

She must sleep, even if Leila could not. 

She would rise early and write her letters while 
the air was fresh and the birds were singing. The 
somethings outside of herself pulling different ways 
were too bewildering. 

Let others miss me, never miss me, God,^’ she 
repeated softly. 

If she might stay here at Diantha^s and be hap- 
py — then she checked herself — and be still, and 
grow wise and fruitful ; that was all she asked of 
this summer. 

This was the greatest temptation of all. 

She did not sleep, but she kept her head on the 
pillow. 

In the morning she went through the fields and 
woods with three letters in her hand j the reply to 
Andrew Croft was kind and most firm ; truly she 
could not think of it a minute j to the others she 
sent the same message ; I am in a strait betwixt 
three j I must have one day longer j will decide by 
next mail.^^ 


IIL 


ONE DAY LONGER. 

“ The different rate of speed at which an impression from 
without travels along the nervous system of the individual 
is called by astronomers the personal equation.” 

Nothing is ever settled until it is settled right.” 

— Dr. Leonard Bacon. 

The only frankness about Olive Vanema was in 
her eyes and voice and manner ; her manner was 
frankness itself j she rarely gave her confidence, 
she was sure she never gave herself ; her manner 
drew you to herself, but you did not thereby gain 
herself j unless stirred to her deepest self, she gave 
nothing of her truest self. She knew this and 
mourned over it. 

Oh,’^ cried a girl in her class one day after 
half an hour with her, wish I could be like Miss 
Vanema. You think she is telling you all about 
herself, but when you think it over there^s not one 

thing you can remember.’^ 

42 


ONE DAY LONGER. 


43 


This morning, walking home from the mail, she 

ached,’’ as Leila would have phrased it, to have 
somebody to talk to. She envied the birds because 
they could pour out themselves in their bird-talk to 
their hearts’ content; but to talk to her heart’s con- 
tent presupposed somebody to her heart’s content 
to talk to. She did not want all the world, like the 
birds. Her lips had been sealed so long ; she had 
spoken so few words that she wished to speak all 
this month. In this world so fuU of folk where was 
this somebody to her heart’s fulness of content % 
Had she ever had that time for one blessed hour f 
Hot with her father, not with her mother, and she 
had never had time for any one else — excepting 
that summer when her mother could spare her, and 
she taught a country school, and boarded with Miss 
Tunison, and studied and read evenings with Miss 
Tunison’s nephew, Allan Menzies. And then she 
only half talked. But, if that other were in the 
world, would her present perplexity be made 
plain f 

Thinking and thinking added to her bewilder- 
ment ; resolving to leave it where it was, she 
persuaded herself that she was beginning to think 
about something else. 


44 


OTHER FOLK. 


How could anything happen between one sunrise 
and sunset to make anything different ? Here at 
Diantha’s outside things were not near enough to 
her to be outside of herself ; everything was out- 
side other people. 

She left the house early. Mollie was sing- 
ing up-stairs and Diantha was rushing about the 
kitchen ; as she passed through the entry she no- 
ticed a gentleman^s ulster thrown over the back of 
a chair and on the floor beside the chair a hat of 
soft gray felt ; a new-comer, evidently, another pair 
of eyes to be observant of her and critical. 

When she entered the house they were all at 
the breakfast table j she went up to her chamber to 
brush her hair afresh and exchange her walking 
dress for her morning cashmere of dark red. 

Diantha’s greeting held a note of surprise ; Miss 
Vanema had never run after the mail before day- 
light before, and she told her so with emphasis. 

Not before — just after, said Olive. 

You must have slept with one eye open,’^ re- 
marked Mr. Van Der Zee. 

As he seldom remarked anything, Olive was not 
displeased with the familiarity. 

At one end of the breakfast table was seated the man 


ONE DAY LONGER. 


45 


of the gray hat and nlsterj his face was toward Mol- 
lie, who stood at his side pouring milk into his glass 
from a large pitcher. It was fifteen years since she 
had seen Allan Menzies, and yet the memory of 
that long-ago summer flashed through her from 
head to foot like an electric shock as the stranger 
arose at Diantha^s impressive introduction : My 
second cousin, Mr. Menzies, from New York, Miss 
Vanema.” 

He came forward as if he, too, remembered, and 
taking her hand, held it in a very middle-aged 
fashion. And he was middle-aged ; another shock 
under which she had to steady herself. 

I wondered if it could be yourself, when Di 
was enlarging upon her boarder last night ; your 
name is unusual, you know.^^ 

And that was about all I covild tell him,” broke 
in Diantha. 

^^But I should have recognized you in an African 
jungle ; you have not changed — oh, yes, your hair! 
But why haven^t you grown old like me ? ” 

He had grown old, she could not contradict him ; 
as he bent toward her she could see that the top of 
his head was bald, his moustache and long side 
whiskers were grizzly ; he was stout, his hands. 


46 


OTHER FOLK. 


even, were plump ; his voice was heavier, or had it 
grown hoarse % 

Why, catching her breath in unpleasant surprise, 
the years had been as many for her as for him j she 
must be middle-aged herself — he used to be seven 
years older. As Diantha passed her husband his 
second cup of coffee, she came to the swift conclusion 
that her boarder was very glad to see Allan Men- 
zies again. The exhilaration of her walk and this 
surprise at the end of it kept Olive’s cheeks and 
eyes in a glow. 

The conversation at the table was usually a mon- 
ologue delivered by Diantha, with attempts at talk 
wedged in by the others ; even her coffee and 
generous bowl of oatmeal did not prevent utter- 
ance. They simply made it laborious. Miss Van- 
ema was relieved that Diantha had some new lis- 
tener upon whom to pour her endless stream of 
comment and question. It was not easy to attend 
to such a matter-of-fact affair as breakfast with the 
rush of recollections that overwhelmed her 5 it was 
so long ago, and he had changed and she had 
changed, and everybody who belonged to her was 
dead, and she had no home, and to-morrow she did 
not know where she would be. 


ONE DAY LONGER, 


47 


That summer at Miss Tunison^s his smooth face 
was as fair and rosy cheeked as a girfs, he was not 
broad shouldered or stout, his hands were slender 
and now — she did not care to look at him, he was a 
common-place, middle-aged man. He had devel- 
oped according to something within himself, and 
not according to something within herself. What a 
girl of ideals she had been ! And what a shatter- 
ing time was middle age ! They had read to- 
gether Browning and Mrs. Browning, and he had 
read by himself German and French, and in the 
evenings had helped her with the horrid Mis- 
cellaneous Examples at the end of the Arithmetic. 
She had told him about her father, and her fathers 
brother, who would not help him at all because he 
had thrown away his small fortune, and how 
harsh and unkind he was to her when she had 
asked him for a hundred dollars to pay a bill — only 
for the loan of it, she would work hard to repay it ; 
he knew all about her life then j she could not tell 
him anything about her life now — if she had any. 
She thought she would love to live awhile without 
any. 

In those days she learned to take an interest in 
politics, foreign and domestic, for he told her she 


48 


OTHER FOLK. 


would be a narrow-minded woman unless she read 
the daily paper, and Miss Tunison used to listen to 
the newspaper in the evening and make shrewd re- 
marks, and then leave the young things together 
for poetry and all the music they could get out of 
her untuned melodeon. The old lady was infirm, 
and the young things had grown old. All in fifteen 
years ! 

And then her lips curved merrily and she smiled, 
and Diantha looked pleased, thinking Miss Vanema 
appreciated her last remark ! Now they were old 
things together 5 and then she was ashamed of her- 
self for the together,^’ and finished her oatmeal 
with her eyes dropped like a hushed child. 

wish this day might be twice as long as 
usual,’’ Mollie wedged in between two rapid decla- 
rations of her mother’s. 

As long as that long day of Joshua’s,” replied 
Miss Vanema, and somehow the words got across 
the table to Mollie. 

And then, unheeding the sounds about her in the 
still under current of her life, her thoughts ran on ; 
it would be a long day, long enough for the Lord to 
think for her, and tell her to-night what He had 
been thinking. Her own thinking seemed to hin- 


ONE DA Y LONGER, 


49 


der. She was confident of this one thing only ; she 
was willing to go or stay where she was bidden. 

With the hum of voices in her ears something 
within her measured itself into expression : 

“ Waiting before Thee, Lord, 

Upon submissive knees, 

Waiting to hear Thy word, 

To know what Thou dost please — 

What Thou wilt have me do. 

In this sore and narrow strait, 

Where I am hedged about 
With nothing to do but wait. 

I will not turn — ^nor stir. 

To follow my own self-will; 

I will wait till Thou dost speak, 

I will listen — and be still. 

Then give me patience. Lord, 

To wait what Thou wilt say, 

If it but be Thy word, 

I will follow it any way.” 

It was scarcely a wonder that she started with a 
painful start and rush of color when the hospitable 
voice of Diantha sounded loud in her ears, asking* if 
she would have ham and eggs, or steak, or both. 
Diantha was the united head of her household j she 
served at both ends of her table. The platter of 
ham and eggs was placed before the other head of 


50 


OTHER FOLK. 


the house, and he served in dumb obedience, with 
up-lifted knife and fork. If he ever put the usual 
question of preference, his wife repeated it in a 
higher key. Mr. Van Der Zee had not a very 
loud voice indoors. 

^^Eggs, please,^^ repeated Miss Vanema, with 
some enbarrassment, which sharp-eyed Diantha 
was attributing to causes of her own conjuring. 

^^The ham is tender,^^ said Diantha, who suffered 
personal injury when any thing upon her table was 
slighted, “I cured this myself ; and a piece of steak, 
too, David. If Miss Vanema will tramp like a 
tramp, she must eat like a tramp. 

^^So, Menzies, you are overworked,” said Mr. 
Van Der Zee, the first observation, he had indulged 
in since his greeting to Miss Vanema. 

Yes,” Diantha hastened to reply before Menzies 
could open his lips, he’s got writer’s cramp — it’s the 
muscles of his right hand and arm ; a kind of pa- 
ralysis that writers often have — and he can’t go on 
with his work until he’s had a month or two of 
country air and milk and rest and rubbing — it 
should be ruhhedy Menzies.” 

Plowing will be good for a change,” suggested 
the master of the house. 


ONE DAY LONGER, 


51 


Not plowing, David/^ said Diantha, displeased. 

He must begin with something gentle, something 
like working in a flower-garden.^^ 

The pen is supposed to be mightier than the 
sword or the sceptre ; no wonder it paralyzed him,^^ 
Mollie burst in with a school-girl laugh. I’ll be 
your amanuensis. Cousin Menzies. Can’t you dic- 
tate to somebody ? ” she inquired, with sudden 
seriousness. 

Mollie, you’ve struck it ! ” he exclaimed. 

Now for the somebody ! My work is all in my 
head. I’ve been thinking tremendously, since I 
couldn’t write, and on paper after a rough fashion, 
and I could dictate with perfect satisfaction to an 
intelligent copyist. I’m preparing articles for an En- 
cyclopedia. My trunk is at the station, crowded with 
books of reference and note-books. Now for a rapid? 
clear hand and a brain that can spell and punctuate 
and paragraph without any telling. I do not want 
to be confused and interrupted with answering a 
single question. If I had that kind of a copyist, I 
could do good work ; I might even attempt some- 
thing else I have in mind. This is my second 
attack, and I shan’t be indiscreet and begin work 
too soon again.” 


52 


OTHER FOLK. 


Mollie’s mother gave her a triumphant glance 5 
here was her opportunity to make a little money, 
as she had been wishing. MoUie would like this 
better than taking two more boarders. Menzies 
had come without waiting to write j he was an un- 
expected boarder.^’ If Di would not take him in, 
he was certain that the other house” would. 

^^But, 0, Menzies,” cried Mollie, dropping the 
deferential Cousin” in her eagerness, write a 
detestable hand, and I know nothing of punctua- 
tion but the period. I can make a full stop.” 

Which is more than some folks can do,” said 
David, with a sly look at his wife. 

But he can look over it and punctuate after- 
ward,” suggested Diantha, after a spiteful look at 
husband. 

That is what he pays me for doing,” said 
Mollie. No, I will have none of that.” 

But you can teach her then,” Diantha contin- 
ued. 

Teaching isnT in the bond,” Menzies returned, 
discontentedly. I canT teach her to write a de- 
cent hand.” 

Mollie, that^s what your mother sent you to 
boarding school for,” reproved her father, sternly. 


ONE DA Y LONGER. 


53 


Miss Vanema/^ appealed Menzies, did you 
teach your girls to punctuate ? IVe seen college- 
bred men that couldn^t do it.” 

Diantha^s face was radiant with a bit of coveted 
information. 

might have known it, Miss Vanema, you have 
the air of one. You are so particular and you 
never make mistakes in grammar and pronuncia- 
tion.” 

How do you know ? ” her husband inquired; 
with an amused glance at Menzies. 

Are you teaching now ? ” continued Diantha, 
passing Mollie her coffee without the second spoon- 
ful of sugar. 

It seems not,” answered Olive, thinking that 
she had not taught somebody not to ask intrusive 
questions. 

Of course not ; it^s your vacation,” said Dian- 
tha, undisturbed. Were you a public or a pri- 
vate school teacher ? ” 

^^Both,” said Olive, the courtesy of her tone 
softening its abruptness. 

Were you principal ? ” 

The last two years.” 

Then you must have had a good salary.” 


54 


OTHER FOLK, 


The glance shot at her from the graj eyes at the 
other end of the table surprised Olive into a quick 
laugh. It was so like those days at Miss Tunison’sj 
it was refreshing to be for one instant in young times 
again. Another glance with some fire in it was 
flashed at her from Diantha^s small black eyesj she 
was sensitive about being laughed at j Cousin Men- 
zies might be quizzical, but this woman school- 
teacher had no right to be. 

Oh, dear,’^ cried MoUie, with a comical groan, 
I can’t change my hand in a day.” 

And you wouldn’t like to make the printers 
swear,” said Menzies seriously. 

Oh, no,” cried Diantha, shocked, but MoUie 
can change her hand.” 

With laborious effort,” sighed MoUie. Mamma, 
I shall have to earn money some easier way.” 

After all your school bills ! ” her father could 
not forbear. 

Her school bUls are all right, David,” ex- 
claimed Diantha, with quick anger. ^^You can’t 
expect MoUie to write like Menzies, who has made 
a business of it, or a school-teacher — ” 

Who hasn’t made a business of it,” interrupted 
Menzies. I wish I could find a school-teacher to 


ONE DAY LONGER, 


65 


copy for me. Now you have put the idea into my 
brain, MoUie, it will buzz until I can bring it into 
working order. I have gained an extension of my 
time, but I would like to get ahead several hundred 
pages in the next four weeks. How many foolscap 
pages can you do in a day. Miss Vanema V'^ 

Miss Vanema has other fish to fry,” said Dian- 
tha tartly 

I wasn^t daring to hint otherwise. I asked 
merely to know what I might expect an amanuen- 
sis to do.” 

For Dr. Provost I copied twenty-five one day, 
but the second day I ran down to twenty, and the 
third day did but fifteen. I am not rapid.” 

Perhaps that is rapid for a lady^s hand,” Men- 
zies replied. Twenty a day would suit me 
excellently. Do your eyes hold out ? ” 

I am not working them hard. I seldom write 
or read longer than three hours at a time.” 

That is too long. Pve been working ten hours 
a day straight ahead.” 

But, Miss Vanema, you wouldn^t do it ? ” 
Diantha demanded. 

Di, my questions were not personal,” said 
Menzies irritably. 


56 


OTHER FOLK. 


A direct appeal is sometimes considered so,^^ 
returned Diantha, with a laugh. 

To think there might be another thing to 
choose ! In this way she could earn something j in 
the other ways she could save something. Then 
she was provoked with herself, would she ever rid 
herself of her long and enforced habit of reckoning 
upon the bread-and-butter side of life f Giving 
her chair an impatient push, she arose from the 
table ; there was no table etiquette at Diantha^s ; 
the hostess herself would leave the table without 
a word of excuse half a dozen times during a meal, 
to attend to some urgent demand in the kitchen. 

Mollie can paint tiles, Diantha hastened 
to say, accepting with a nod Miss Vanema’s 
murmured Excuse me, Mrs. Van Der Zee.^^ 
^^Unfortunately, painted tiles are not in my 
line,^^ observed Menzies. If I had a daughter, 
she should learn to write a plain hand and to punc- 
tuate.^^ 

Perhaps you can get your time still further ex- 
tended then,’^ remarked Diantha dryly, with the 
color burning in her cheeks. 

Miss Vanema stepped to the bay window and 
stood looking down into Diantha^s huge cactus. 


ONE DA Y LONGER. 


57 


Menzies laughed, and arose also. He laid his 
hand on MoUie’s shoulder 5 he and Mollie under- 
stood each other. 

David was wiping the tips of his fingers on his 
soiled handkerchief j guests only were provided 
with napkins, as Diantha did the washing and 
Mollie the ironing. 

David expostulated his wife, while Mollie 
mentally decided that Menzies should not see her 
father do this thing another time. 

Menzies, how is Miss Graham*?” inquired Di- 
antha as if she had just thought of her. 

As usual,” was the quiet reply. 

No better ! All these years ! ” exclaimed 
Diantha, with real sympathy. How many years 
is it now since she has walked a step ? ” 

Five,” said Menzies, with his hand still on 
Mollie^s shoulder. 

She must have given up hope by this time.” 

Would you f ” asked Menzies. 

Why, haven^t you ?” 

Yes, I have,” he said so gravely that Olive 
lifted her eyes from the cactus. 

But you are engaged to her still,” Diantha 
persisted. 


58 


OTHER FOLK. 


Cousin Di; I shall always be engaged to her 
still.” 

Mollie’s hand was lifted to brush back her un- 
comfortable hair, but her fingers gave Menzies’ 
hand a light touch. lie left the room instantly, 
passing out into the entry j Olive saw him, from 
behind the tall cactus, start down the lane. 

Everybody doesn^t know,” Diantha began 
in her tone of enlightenment, turning to Miss 
Vanema, ^4hat Menzies is engaged. It is a 
very lamentable story and is making an old man 
of him. MoUie was a little girl when it hap- 
pened. I remember so well — was braiding her a 
red dress, and he stood in this very room and told 
me j they had been engaged but two months when 
she had her fall ; she was dancing at a ball — she 
was very gay — and she slipped, and she has not 
stepped since. She lies on a couch j she has 
everything this world can give j she is the only 
daughter, her father is rich, she has no mother j 
she must be twenty-five now — she fell on her 
twentieth birthday.” 

Miss Vanema was still looking down into the 
cactus •j Diantha watched her face and knew that she 
had an interested listener. 


ONE DA Y LONGER, 


59 


I have seen her photograph. She was very- 
fine looking then j she will not have it taken now. 
She doesn^t weigh a hundred pounds now and her 
hair is cut, her beautiful hair. She is not a happy 
disposition; she cannot get used to it.^’ 

Mother, who could ? Mollie burst out. I 
wish you wouldn^t ask him about her.^^ 

I slfiall ask him about her ! I wouldn^t be so 
unsympathetic as not to talk to him about her. 
She has been in Germany two years. Miss Van- 
ema. I hoped the great doctors over there could 
cure her. She suffered everything to go, but she 
would go. I wonder how he can write to her with his 
lame hand. She can^t write when her head is very 
bad. It^s the most distressing courtship I ever 
heard about. And he is so faithful ! 

So is she,^^ contended Mollie, with a flash in 
her eye. 

Now he’s gone off and won’t be back for wor- 
ship,” said Diantha petulantly; ^^he has such a 
way of going off. I never heard him make a re- 
ligious remark in my life.” 

Miss Vanema turned and spoke gently: ^^Did 
you ever hear him make an irreligious remark, 
Mrs. Van Dcr Zee ?” 


60 


OTHER FOLK. 


No,” said Diantha, surprised out of a flood of 
words, but he ought to stay to worship just the 
same. MoUie, I wish you could write for him, 
child. David, we^d better sit down right away.” 

Hiram, the hired man, pushed his chair noisily 
back against the wall and sat down for worship j 
he had been in the family fifteen years, and knew 
all the family secrets. Miss Vanema sat apart j 
she did not enjoy this family worship, it made her 
homesick. David hurried through the chapter in 
course, reading so indistinctly that were she not 
familiar with the book from which he read she 
could not have caught the sense, and then he 
mumbled through a prayer that she was not suffi- 
ciently familiar with to catch the sense. Diantha 
believed that sometimes Miss Vanema, ex- 
cused herself from the breakfast table that she 
might avoid family worship 5 she was sensitive 
about this hereditary custom being observed, and 
conducting it was one thing she could not do for 
David. 

David, Fd have a little grit when I worshiped 
the Lord as well as when I drove oxen, it seems 
to me,” she remarked to him one morning when 
Miss Vanema did not stay. 


ONE DA Y LONGER, 


61 


SLe had not yet inquired into Miss Vanema’s pe- 
culiar views, (she was sure they were peculiar) 
and she believed that she had sufficient evidence 
for believing her to be not a Christian ; she hoped 
she was a safe ’’ companion for Molliej she had 
questioned Mollie, and MoUie had laughed and said 
she had never heard her say anything wicked.’^ 
As Diantha knelt with her head bowed on her 
elbows, she was exercised about MissVanema; she 
had been with them three Sundays, and each Sun- 
day had positively refused to go to church and had 
never given any reason except a very polite No 
thank you.^’ To be sure the carriage was full 
without her, the three seats were crowded with 
three on each seat, and once Mollie sat in her lap, 
for Hiram always wanted to go, and she didn’t know 
where they could squeeze in a large woman like Miss 
Yanema, although she had told her that she or Mollie 
would cheerfully stay at home, although they would 
hate to awfully, to make room for her j she was 
afraid Miss Yanema was not orthodox. She had 
just decided that Miss Yanema must weigh at least 
one hundred and thirty-five pounds when David’s 
quick Amen ” brought her to the knowledge that 
she was on her knees in prayer time. 


62 


OTHER FOLK. 


She arose with a flushed and most serious face, 
her heart aching with penitence for her wandering 
thoughts. No one knew it, but she had many a 
heart-ache over herself. 

David brushed oflT his knees — he always brushed 
off his knees with his hands when he arose from 
worship — and with an expression of returned 
cheerfulness followed Hiram out into the kitchen. 
Both men were in their shirt sleeves. Miss 
Vanema did not like to eat breakfast with men in 
their shirt sleeves. 

We must be spry to-day, MoUie,^^ exclaimed 
Diantha. Just see if my bread is light.^^ 

And then, to satisfiy her conscience, Diantha left 
her bread, which needed moulding that minute, and 
went up-stairs and read a short Psalm and knelt and 
prayed a brief, fervent prayer, then she felt 
better j and running down-stairs like a girl, she 
found her bread had not run over the top of the 
pan. Mollie was singing nonsense as she washed 
the breakfast dishes; her mother loved her non- 
sense, and wondered where she found so much of 
it. 

Miss Vanema, on the door-stone, was listening to 
the clear sweet voice. What must it be like to be 


ONE DAY LONGER. 


63 


singing and washing dishes in a kitchen with a 
mother who loved every spot in the kitchen floor 
your foot touched ? Mollie’s nonsense was one of 
the things near enough to Olive Vanema to he 
something outside of herself, she could lose herself 
in it ; this girl was growing very near to her. 

^ Little old woman up in tlie sky, 

See kow she makes the feathers fly ! 

She sits in the twilight overhead 
And picks her geese for a feather bed,’ 

- Mollie sang as she tripped about putting the clean 
dishes away. 

Then Diantha^s voice broke in, and Olive was 
afraid the singing would stop j it was queer how 
the music and the silly words rested her j she had 
thought her serious thoughts so long — and did not 
a time come when the heart might have a vacation 
from feeling as well as the brain from thinking f 
Mollie was singing again : 

“ ^The gray geese flap their heavy wings; 

The little old woman sings and sings: 

How strange that the people down below 
Should call my hits of feathers snow ! 

‘Here is a handful soft and white — 

That is to cover the crocus tight. 

Here is another whiter still, 

And that is to hide the dafibdil. 


64 


OTHER FOLK, 


“ * Here is one for the great fir tree, 

And another here for the chickadee I ” 

Little old woman overhead, 

What will become of your feather bed f ’ ” 

The girPs laugh was as sweet as her singing. 

What must it be like, thought the homesick 
woman on the door-stone, to be moulding bread in a 
kitchen and have a bright, sweet daughter tripping 
about who loved you better than any one else in 
the world ? It must be lihe God’s thought of you j 
but why had He thought such a different thing for 
Diantha and herself? Would He ever tell her ? 

Menzies had wandered off down the lane. Mol- 
lie was sorry he did not stay to worship 5 she 
thought he was not very polite 5 but then he had 
the reputation of rudeness — he was a very queer 
old bachelor — but she reverenced and loved him 
for his loyalty to that poor, dear beautiful Vir- 
ginia Graham. One twilight last summer he told 
her the story j they were walking down the lane 
together towards the spring lot ; she had promised 
to show him a bed of moss near the spring ; after a 
silence he began to talk ; it might have been some- 
thing in the evening song of the thrush, or some- 
thing in the after-glow in the sky, or something in 


ONE DAY LONGER, 


65 


the letter in his pocket, or something in him or in 
her — anyway, he told her the story, silent man 
that he was, and this summer he had been more 
silent than ever. She did not promise not to tell ; 
he knew he had no need to ask her that 5 he told it 
in his strong fashion in a few words : ten years 
ago he had business to do for Virginia’s father j he 
was with them in their summer home ; he had 
never seen Virginia before 5 he did not care for her 5 
she was a butterfly sort of girl, beautiful and 
spoiled ; and then he saw that she cared very 
much for him 5 she had had everything her father 
could get for her all her life ; and now she wanted 
something her father’s position and wealth could 
not buy j she was only a girl, and he was a man, 
middle-aged even then, a bookworm at that, and 
she was half engaged to a bright young fellow 
whom her father liked ; she was very loving and 
lovely, and showed how she cared so simply and 
innocently, that before he knew, before he meant 
anything but to be very kind and go away as 
soon as he could, he had said something that she 
misinterpreted and then she had, spoiled child as 
she was, told him she loved him, even better than 
papa, and she had cried last night because he v/as 


66 


OTHER FOLK. 


SO cold to her and going away so soon ; papa would 
not be angry, he would let her choose for herself, 
and he must speak to papa that very day. And so 
it went on, and he was in and could not get out, for 
she was frail and high-spirited, and the humiliation 
and disappointment might be too much for her ; 
and it made no difference to him, he was a man 
and could bear it. Then her fall and long help- 
lessness — ^how could he tell her the truth ? Twice 
he had begged her, for her own sake, to release ' 
him, but she wept and said she would die without 
him. 

Mollie listened with sobbing breaths and laid her 
hand on his for a moment as it rested on the top 
rail of the fence near which they were standing 5 
her heart would break if she were that girl and 
had to be told such a thing. She knew girls were 
very foolish, sometimes, and selfish, and did not think 
— ^but he was a man and could bear it. The story 
was told a year ago, and he had since never alluded 
to it. Little nineteen-year-old Mollie was sympathy 
itself ; she needed to rough it, her father said, to 
keep her from being so tender-hearted. She was 
like her mother only in her slightness and prettiness 
— ^black-eyed, black-haired, low-browed and soft 


ONE DA Y LONGER. 


67 


cheeked, a light tread, a clear laugn, a quick 
word — the sweetest thing that ever grew beside 
a human door.^^ 

She is like her father, no pusher,^’ Diantha 
had said to Miss Yanema, with pride and regret. 

Mollie was not a talker, but she loved to talk to 
Miss Yanema ; as soon as she could escape from 
the kitchen, she hurried out to the camp-chair on 
the door-stone. 

Miss Yanema was sewing j Mollie had never 
seen her sew before ; she imagined that she did not 
know how to do such commonplace things. 

CanH you write for Cousin Menzies ? she 
asked coaxingly. I can^t think of any one else. 
I would do anything for him, but I cannot do that.’’ 

Perhaps I cannot punctuate to suit him,” said 
Miss Yanema very gravely. 

You can do anything,^ declared Mollie, pos- 
itively. 

If I could do anything, what would I do ? ” 
cried Miss Yanema, a merry light brightening the 
brown of her eyes. I think I would buy a ham- 
mock, and swing in it under your grandfather’s 
apple blossoms.” 

When Mollie came out she was wondering if it 


68 


OTHER FOLK. 


would be very extravagant to buy a nammock | 
she had never owned a hammock. There were 
fields and fields to look across, a road winding off 
somewhere, and houses and a church spire — miles of 
greenness, which comforted her more than anything 
else. 

After MoUie went up-stairs to sing and move 
about the chambers, doing her morning work, she 
kept her restless fingers upon her sewing, but she 
could not keep her restless thoughts upon it. 
Would she like to write for Mr. Menzies f Her 
hours again might be as regular as the clock j the 
routine of the hours from nine until three had been 
so long a part of her life that she grew fidgety 
without work to map out her days 5 routine 
satisfied something in her mental make-up j she 
began to think she was a kind of machine, with a 
woman^s heart clogging the wheels j if she kept her 
heart still, would the wheels go on ? 

The merry light flashed over her face again j 
laughing at herself was one of her alteratives; and 
now she was ready to drop her sewing and jump 
into something. 

The unexpected appearance of Allan Menzies 
had shaken her into a sudden homesickness. She 


ONE DAY LONGER. 


C9 


would be glad to be in the school-room again, and 
hurrying across the street at the noon recess to 
prepare her mother^s lunch and speak an en- 
couraging word to her shiftless father, who had 
not lifted his hand to earn a dollar since he lost his 
position in the bank when she was sixteen j 
that was home, she knew that father and mother 
loved her — she had not known it then j they had 
not shown her that they cared for anything beside 
the money she earned and the comfort she gave 
them in the little house she paid the rent for j but it 
was home j and to-day she was homesick. 

That summer she kept Allan Menzies back — she 
kept herself back — ^because of her father and 
mother j she had no right to be natural and girlish, 
she was the man of the house. And now the man 
of the house was a woman of middle age, who un- 
derstood girls better than any girl knew. 

0, Miss Vanema,^’ Diantha cried, hurrying out 
in great excitement, as Olive arose to start off 
somewhere, here’s a telegram for you ! The boy 
was in a dreadful hurry, and I gave him his 
twenty-five cents for bringing it before I brought it 
to you.” 

Miss Yanema’s lips paled as she tore open the 


70 


OTHER FOLK. 


coarse envelope. Was it Leila or Harriet Peters ? 
Had something happened to one of the few she had 
to love 1 

Oh, it’s nothing to be frightened about ! ” she 
exclaimed, relieved. Thank you for paying for 
it.” 

It was only for bringing it j I wrote your name 
in his book — and I was dying to know if it were 
anything dreadful.” 

Not at all — only something I am glad to know.” 

Will it take you away ? ” asked Diantha, with 
concern. 

Exactly the contrary — as far it goes.” 

Without thinking of concealing her news. Miss 
Vanema tore the telegram into pieces and began 
rolling one scrap in her fingers. 

^^H’m,” ejaculated Diantha, even the pretty 
black hairs in her neck, at the bottom of her French 
twist, tightening with indignation; did Miss Vanema 
think it was not safe to leave it around ? Olive laid 
the silver piece in her hand ; Diantha would have 
given the twenty-five cents to read the telegram. 
It ran : 

Case of scarlet fever ; boarding girls fled in a 
panic. Will write in a day or two.” 


ONE DAY LONGER. 


71 


So this was taken out of her deciding. Leila 
would be sure she had no excuse for not accepting 
a summer of good times. The last scrap was being 
absent-mindedly rolled in her fingers when Mr. 
Menzies came up the lane. 

The lane began outside this side gate and ran up 
and ran down between many fields through the one 
hundred and fifty acres of the farm. Pond 
Lily Farm Molly had named the place, from the 
fact that yellow lilies once floated on the surface of 
the water that in old times turned her grand- 
father's saw-mill. The mill was in ruins and the 
pond half dry, the lilies were a thing of the past, 
but Mollie clung to the name and dated her letters 
with it. Mr. Menzies^ hands were laden with green 
things, too ; with her head out the kitchen window 
Diantha called to him to ask why in the name of 
wonder, when the world was so full of green stuff, 
did he care to pull such wild things. 

That^s why,^^ he answered, with his quizzical 
laugh. 

He went into the entry and shouted to Mollie ; 
she ran down to take his green things and exclaim 
over them. 

I couldn’t find the wild mignonette,” he said. 


72 


OTHER FOLK. 


I looked in all the marshy places j it must be too 
early.^^ 

Mollie was sweeping, she ran down to him with 
the broom in her hand, thinking of that other girl 
who would give all her father^s wealth to be able to 
run down-stairs with a broom in her hand to take 
wild, wet things from the hand of this bald-headed, 
stout old bachelor. 

I was going for wild flowers this afternoon. I 
wish I could punctuaj;e. Cousin Menzies.’^ 

Don^t fret about it, you can do something bet- 
ter.^' 

And you couldnH do it afterward ? 

I^m a fussy old fellow j it would wear the skin 
off my bones to know that each sentence was not 
perfect as it went down.^^ 

^^But couldn^t you — Mollie had her mother^s 
talent for planning — dictate with the punctuation, 
read the commas and semicolons off to me.^’ 

And then my train of thought would be thrown 
off the track.^^ 

I didn^t know such stupid things as you put in 
Encyclopedias required a whole train of thought. I 
thought a baggage car would do.” 

Olive heard this bit of talk and pondered it as 


ONE DAY LONGER, 


73 


she started off somewhere ; the lane beckoned to her, 
it was long, and it ended somewhere. The grassy 
back yard at Diantha^s was separated by a fence of 
white palings from another grassy yard — the front 
yard of the hundred year-old house she was born 
in. If she stayed, Olive had thoughts of asking 
that she might take up her abode, excepting for 
meals, in one of the chambers of this old house. 
Diantha^s mother took her through the house one 
day, and opened the door into exactly the nook she 
would love to go to sleep in, and to awake in the 
morning in j it was under the eaves, and the two 
small windows looked out into the tops of apple 
trees. Of all the sweet things that grew she 
loved best the apple blossoms. Nobody knew it, 
but there were apple blossoms pressed between the 
leaves among the Miscellaneous Examples of an old 
Arithmetic packed away in her box of school books. 
If apple blossoms would last all summer, the sights 
of old Europe to her would have no attraction. 

Diantha^s house was built the year before Mollie 
was born j the neighbors said the old man was fool- 
ish to build a house in his own front yard, but Di- 
antha^s mother chose the building site, it would be 
so easy for her to run in at Diantha^s back door if 


74 


OTHER FOLK. 


the children were sick. The children were sick ; 
before Mollie was four years old, her three sisters 
died, and then more than ever the mother was glad 
of the back door to run in at, for Dianthy needed 
a deal of comforting. 

In the old house Diantha^s father and mother had 
lived ever since the day of their marriage, sixty- 
three years before ; Diantha’s sisters were all at 
home 5 one was a widow, the others had never 
married. The one hundred and fifty acres be- 
longed to the old man, but everybody spoke of the 
place as Diantha’s ; at his death — his will had 
been made thirty years — his daughters were to 
share and share alike in real estate and personal 
property. Diantha told Miss Vanema how they 
were situated the morning after she came, to- 
gether with the history of her five sisters. 

The soul of the old house was always escaping 
through its doors and windows; the five girls’^ and 
the talkative old mother never let the echoes sleep. 
The six women talked all the time and talked 
all together; good-naturedly and ill-naturedly, they 
were forever contradicting each other. If Mary 
Jane said that a certain thing happened at half-past 
ten o^clock, somebody would dispute it and declare 


ONE DAY LONGER. 


75 


that it was quarter to eleven — and each of the 
others would take sides and prove themselves 
right by long and loud argument. The disputes 
never ran higher than to call each other ^^a ninny 
or a goose/^ and the next meal was partaken of 
with everybody good-naturedly waitmg on each 
other and pressing each other to eat. 

Hastening past, for fear that Lucy Ann, in the 
yard feeding the little chickens, or Sarah Lib in 
the doorway, or Mary Jane at a window would call 
to her to come in a minute or two, Olive went on 
her way down to the spring. The clear water 
bubbled up and pushed its way out over a narrow 
pebbly bed, then widened into a brook where 
water-cresses grow 5 she followed the brook, and 
stooped to pick a handful of the peppery green 
things, and went on tasting them, persuading her- 
self that she was thinking only of the wild beauty 
about her and feeling only very glad and most 
thankful for the quiet days that had come to her ! 
At the same time she was vividly conscious that she 
was playing at being satisfied. She knew she 
might have to make her satisfied what Christ had, 
and it was all He had — His Father^s will. She did 
not know whether she had it or not. She was sure 


76 


OTHER FOLK. 


she would be satisfied if she knew she had it — 
whether she were happy or not. Were Diantha in 
a strait, she thought, smiling to herself, she would 
talk the matter over with her husband and daughter 
and mother and five sisters, and perhaps call the 
neighbors in. But — and down here, alone with the 
brook that with all its gurgling would never tell, 
she knew what the trouble was ! Last night she 
had not been brave enough to face the truth ; she 
was so much a woman, with all her man^s way of 
paying the rent and the doctor’s bill, that she had a 
woman’s unreasonable reason for not knowing what 
to do next. And that woman’s reason was Leila’s 
father ! Her old ” father ! Her handsome, erect, 
broad-shouldered, black-headed quick-stepped old 
father, but twelve years — hardly twelve years — 
older than herself, whose house was her home that 
year of her illness, and long convalescence ; she 
knew in her heart that his plan of taking her 
abroad was for her sake as well as Leila’s. He 
had always been so sorry for her. He had never 
approved of her father j he had had no patience 
with her mother j he had influenced her uncle to 
bequeath to her th-e whole of his small savings 5 he 
had, with brotherly kindness, taken her into his 


ONE DA Y LONGER. 


77 


home that very day the physician said she must 
have a long rest or die ; and now he would have her 
go to Europe for the sake of his daughter. Leila 
might have thought of it, but he had thought of it 
first. He had done enough for her ; he should do 
no more. She was safe here at Diantha^s j could not 
a woman who had taken care of herself all her life 
take care of herself at thirty-five ? Sara Douglas 
could go ! She would write to him and tell him 
that Miss Douglas would be a most desirable chap- 
erone for his daughter. But would she ? With the 
last peppery bit between her lips, she tramped back 
up the lane. Mary Jane, under her sunbonnet, was 
scolding Sarah Lib as they planted garden seeds 
together, and the old man was hobbling about in 
the sunshine. 

Dr. Provost must have given up that secretary- 
ship he was hoping for; this going abroad was 
second best ; Leil acared more for the secretary- 
ship ; she did not care at all for traveling. Why 
could not her father leave her at home ? 

Miss Vanema was so serious at dinner that 
Diantha was confident that the telegram had not 
brought her good news. Menzies was serious too ; 
he was tired of the country already. 


78 


OTHER FOLK, 


Di; if I can^t find something to do, I’ll go 
home.” 

What can you do there ? ” she inquired, practi- 
cally. 

That’s the mischief of it.” 

They don’t want you growling and grumbling 
about.” 

I’d like to see you with your right hand gone — 
or rather I wouldn’t.” 

^^It isn’t gone. You have it to make strong; you 
have it to help itself with,” she said impatiently. 

Men can’t be patient two minutes.” 

I have been patient two minutes. Mollie’s sug- 
gestion has upset me. I’m going home to find a 
man, or a mouse, or a long-tailed rat that can write 
a decent hand and will not ask too much for it.” 

Is it a man’s hand you want ? ” asked Diantha. 
^^I suppose you think you have a woman’s already.” 

That afternoon Olive sat at a window in her 
chamber writing to Harriet Peters ;, she lifted her 
head at the sound of carriage wheels ; they stopped 
somewhere not far off. Goings and comings meant 
nothing to her, and she went on writing. The next 
instant her pen dropped, and she was on her feet. 
No one had a voice like Leila Provost I 


ONE DA Y LONGER, 


79 


Is Miss V anema here ? the voice was asking. 

Oh, yes,” answered Diantha, on the piazza, 
she is here in the house, if she isn^t in the woods 
or out in the fields.” 

Leila had pushed the carriage door open and was 
springing out as Miss Vanema appeared on the 
piazza. 

Leila Provost!” was all she could exclaim. 

Have I frightened you to death ? I am not any 
thing if I am not sudden. Papa hurried me off 
himself — he was afraid you would he worried about 
his letter — so when his letter came last night, he 
said he would send me or a telegram to-day. I 
preferred to be the telegram. Pm dying to get 
into the country. May I send the carriage back 
and stay over a train 1 ” 

Certainly,” said Diantha, who had edged her 
way in between the two. I shall be glad if you 
will stay all night j we have plenty of room. Miss 
Vanema has been blue to-day j she looks a lighter 
color already.” 

Then Pll give this man a telegram to papa and 
stay. Thank you ; you are very kind.” 

She was a little creature ; at the first glimpse of 
her as she sat in the carriage, Diantha thought she 


80 


OTHER FOLK. 


was deformed j she was hollow chested and round 
shouldered, with colorless cheeks, large gray eyes, 
sunken under the well-defined brows, and projecting 
forehead 5 she laughed as she talked j her words 
came out twinkling. Her voice was like the tinkle 
of a silver bell. 

I would walk five miles to hear that girl talk 
five minutes,^’ decided Menzies, behind his news- 
paper on the piazza. 

Leila told the rest of it as she stood with Miss 
Olive in her chamber unbuttoning her gloves and 
long cloak. 

Papa’s letter came — ^the secretaryship, you 
know — somebody has died, and they want him 
mmediately j he is delightedly satisfied with it j so 
am I. I hate to travel, unless to be with him. And 
that study that was wearing him to death, for the 
book wouldn’t be a success, and he’s beginning to 
believe it himself, and keeping on out of sheer self- 
will and nervousness. I hate books, and people 
that write them, and people that read them, for I 
had to work with papa, and I knew his work was 
wasted, and the disappointment of it would break 
his heart and mine ! And now I’m too happy for 
any thing, for he’ll make a splendid secretary, and 


ONE DA Y LONGER. 


81 


cremate that pile of manuscript and never have 
another trouble as long as I live. And you haven^t 
got to chaperone me, unless it’s about the streets of 
my native town or here in this beautiful country. 
How did you ever find such a Garden of Eden 1 
And your hostess is a beauty, with her snapping 
black eyes and smooth, shining hair.” 

The merry light was brightening the brown of 
Olive’s eyes ; she looked like the happiest woman in 
the world ; lifting both hands, she exclaimed, in a 
comical tone of profound reflection, 

Oh, why did I not last night sleep the sleep of 
the philosopher ? All one has to do is not to decide, 
and life will be decided for you.” 


IV. 


UNDER THE APPLE TREES. 

Some things God gives often ; some He gives only once.'^ 
— Geikie. 

I SAT, Miss Vanema ! 

Miss Vanema was not at all surprised at the 
doctor^s greeting j he was a rough and ready sort of 
young fellow, and the words and heartiness of the 
tone were like him. 

She was sitting on the piazza with a hook in her 
hand ; a hook was a companion, open or shut ; this 
hook had heen shut for an hour, while she sat think- 
ing. 

At the breakfast table Mr. Menzies had told the 
girls that he had found the place where the wild 
forget-me-nots grew, and as soon as Mollie^s morning 
work was done, the three had started off together. 
That was an hour ago, and during this hour she 

sat on the piazza with her book unopened, thinking. 

82 


UNDER THE APPLE TREES, 


83 


It was a very long time since she and Allan 
Menzies searched for wild forget-me-nots together ; 
she was young then — like these girls. 

The doctor was coming around the house j he ran 
up the piazza steps and stood looking at her with 
a hand in each pocket. 

Do you believe in the One who made you ? 

He waited for a reply. 

^^Yes/^ she said, grave and startled. 

Then show it by leaving yourself alone and 
letting Him have His way with you. He knows 
how you are made, even better than I do — and I 
know enough to know that you haven^t the vitality 
you had two weeks ago. If you want to do good 
work to the end of your days, and at the end of 
your days — and that kind of timber is in you — 
don^t spoil it by losing your vim now. You are in 
danger, I warn you. I know the signs. Put your- 
self out to grass; there^s good pasture here. When 
you are seventy-five you will tell me you are glad 
of it ; will you do it ? 

Yes,’^ promised Olive, in a flash of de- 
cision. 

Good ! Put it there.’’ 

He pulled his right hand out of his pocket and 


84 : 


OTHER FOLK, 


held his palm out to her ; smiling, she laid her hand 
in his, and he grasped and held it firmly. 

Say ^ I give you my word. Dr. Clymer.^ 

She repeated : I give you my word, Dr. Cly- 
mer.^^ 

Now it is signed, sealed, and delivered. Thank 
you immensely. You knew it before I told you, or 
you wouldn^t have given in so. You think about 
other folks, and somebody will think about you. 
Don^t you go in the house, unless to eat and sleep 
— not even when it rains. Put on your rubbers and 
waterproof, and tramp. Good day.^^ 

It was two weeks to-day since Leila^s voice broke 
in upon that letter to Harriet Peters ; she had taken 
up her abode in the old house, in the nook that 
looked out into the top of the apple trees. Leila 
and her Saratoga trunk filled her chamber at Dian- 
tha’s. Diantha had covered the lounge with pretty 
cretonne, and Mollie had brought several useful 
little things into the room, and Leila had asked to 
have the carpet taken up and one or two rugs laid 
down. 

The apple blossoms were blown awayj this 
morning Olive was thinking that some of her heart 
must have blown away with them, for she felt 


UNDER THE APPLE TREES. 


85 


listless, and life seemed not worth keeping hold of 
Her two windows looked out into a world of green 
leaves. She took her meals at Diantha’s and at all 
hours vibrated between her two homes. 

1^1 browse like the sheep in the pasture, she 
thought, with a sigh of relief. suppose some- 
body had to tell me. I couldn^t tell myself.^^ 

Then she held herself still in utter dismay ; now 
she could not ask Allan Menzies to let her do his 
copying ; she had been screwing her courage up for 
the two weeks, and had decided to speak to him 
when he returned from this walk ; but her promise 
had bound her — she must not study, or read, or 
work. 

Bending over manuscript day after day, writing 
rapidly and nervously, as she was confident she 
would do, would not be putting herself out to pas- 
ture. Voices were in the lane ; Mollie went in at 
the side door ) Menzies and Leila came around the 
corner of the house ; Leila dropped down on the 
lowest step of the piazza j he paused a moment be. 
side her, and then ran up the steps and stopped in 
the doorway. 

Mollie was at work in the dining-room, at work 
and singing. 


86 


OTHER FOLK, 


Leila looked up at Miss Olive and smiled ; out 
here in the country the words of the singing seemed 
sweet and strong. 

“ ^ What can I give Him, 

Poor as I am ? 

If I were a shepherd, 

I would bring a lamb; 

If I were a wise man 
I would do my part ; 

Yet what can I give Him ? 

Give my heart/ ” 

When the singing ceased, Leila spoke : 

We have been talking.’’ 

When haven’t you been talking f ” asked Olive. 

^^Mr. Menzies has been telling us some things 
we didn’t know. He likes ignorant people because 
he can talk to them — wisely,” she said with a 
saucy laugh. I believe he doesn’t know the rest 
so I forbear to question him. He said that many 
suits of armor in the Tower of London would be a 
tight fit for the boys of to-day, boys of sixteen. I’m 
glad I didn’t live in those days, and have to admire 
that kind of men. My father is six feet two, almost 
as tall as Washington, and weighs over two hundred. 
Isn’t he splendid, Miss Olive?” 

Is that his fighting weight ? ” asked Menzies. 


UNDER THE APPLE TREES, 


87 


And he said, also/^ continued Leila, not deiga. 
ing to notice the interruption, that the old Greek 
stone coffins are half a head too short for the 
average modern man.^^ 

Is that all he said ? inquired Olive, meeting 
the amused gray eyes as they looked down on the 
little figure on the lowest step. 

He said the British soldier finds his hand 
cramped on the hilt of the crusader’s cross-hilted 
sword.” 

And that gives you a contempt for Scott’s 
heroes, you mite of a thing ! ” said Olive. 

I shall put it in my journal for papa. 0, Miss 
Olive, he’s gone West. I had two letters this 
morning. I knew he would start off as soon as he 
was rid of me. But he will want me by and by as 
his clerk in that handsome little office, and I won’t 
go.” 

Would she dare — she had not thought of it be- 
fore — would she dare suggest to Leila that Mr. 
Menzies was miserable for want of a copyist ? 

I wish you were my daughter,” said Menzies. 

Oh, no,” said the girl, measuring him with her 
critical and laughing eye. You are not half tall 
enough. I can stand under my father’s arm.” 


88 


OTHER FOLK. 


Then I am sure he can make you mind ; I have 
doubted it before/^ he retorted as he went in. 

Leila meditated before she spoke again, then she 
said: 

Miss Olive, I do not think Mr. Menzies is a 
happy man. I feel as if he were always trying to 
forget something.^^ 

And never forgetting ? 

Oh, yes 5 but he remembers oftener than he 
forgets. He is a silent man, with all his talking. 
He makes himself talk to keep from thinking. I 
don^t like him j he hasn^t any tenderness.” 

Bending her head forward Leila drew her knees 
up to her chin and clasped them with both small, 
tanned hands. 

Diantha said she was an ugly little piece. She 
was looking at Mollie when she said it and speak- 
ing to Menzies ; but then Mollie was such a little 
beauty. 

Every attention Cousin Menzies paid to Leila, 
Diantha felt was taken from Mollie, and, directly or 
indirectly, resented it. 

Leila meditated awhile, then spoke again : 

My Cousin Andrew — my other letter was from 
him — says that my letter has decided him to 


UNDER THE APPLE TREES. 


89 


come here if oiir hostess can make room for him. 
I told him her hoarders had the choice of two 
houses, beside all outdoors. He can walk to and 
from the station ; it is lonely for him at home, now we 
are all away, he was as blue as indigo after you left. 
Our old Bertha doesn^t take pains for one, and the 
evenings are long beside, and he never will go out 
evenings alone. Do you think I may venture to 
ask Mrs. Di to take more of us in. She is perfect- 
ly capable of it. We shall 'have him to take us 
around the two weeks of his vacation. Mr. Men- 
zies is engaged; Mrs. Di took endless pains to go into 
details. Perhaps she thought I would snap him up.’’ 

You must have given Mr. Croft a rose-colored 
view of our life here,” remarked Olive, with lips 
perceptibly paling. 

^Ht was all greenness. I never so bathed my 
very soul in greenness before. You won’t care if 
he comes, will you ? ” asked Leila, still hugging her 
knees. ^Hle’s as convenient as a hammock; you can 
slip out of him, and he stays put and never minds. 
He will amuse the unhappily engaged man, which 
is as bad, in a lesser degree, as being unhappily 
married,” Leila ran on in a gleeful voice. don’t 
amuse him.” 


90 


OTHER FOLK, 


Then Leila did not know, or did she % You 
never could tell what Leila knew. 

Andrew Croft must be bravely over his foolish- 
ness, or hopeful j she thought he was not hopeful. 

I think Mrs. Di will be glad to take him. She 
has a frugal mind ; and she wants a new parlor car- 
pet, a set of china, a black silk dress, and to send 
Mollie to the city this winter for a few finishing 
touches. I might give the finishing touches to her, 
but she doesn^t seem to admire my manners. 

Miss Maria remarked this morning that they 
have a bedroom down-sLairs which is used as a 
storeroom, and if Diantha would have another 
boarder she would clear it out,^^ remarked 
Olive. 

I suppose the old folks have something for the 
lodgers, said Leila j it is quite a scheme, and 
you originated it.^^ 

The heavy step of Mr. Menzies was in the hall j 
Leila did not change her position; Mr. Menzies 
was such an old bachelor that she was as easy with 
him as with her father, and as rude ; accustomed 
to the society of gentlemen, having entertained 
her father’s friends since she was fifteen, she had 
the air of a wise little woman of the world ; Dian- 


UNDER THE APPLE TREES. 


91 


tha said she behaved more like forty than nine- 
teen. 

The old Indian complained that the paleface, 
especially women, died of too much house ; he 
could not bring that charge against you two,” said 
Menzies, stationing himself again in the doorway. 

Out of doors doesn’t wear your uneasiness off,” 
observed Leila, staightening herself. Life is an 
iron cage and you walk up and down in it.” 

Nothing but my work will quiet me,” he an- 
swered gloomily. I feel like a lion robbed of its 
young.” 

Leila studied his face for an instant, then she 
burst out in her sudden fashion : 

Don’t you want somebody to lend a hand ? I 
have a good right hand at your service, sir.” 

You do not mean it ! ” he exclaimed. I dare 
not hope you mean it.” 

I never offered my hand to a gentleman be- 
fore,” she said ruefully, gazing down at her morsel 
of a hand, and it is not much to offer.” 

Miss Leila, how can I thank you ! But one 
day’s work will only 'upset me.” 

I will do twenty, forty, one hundi’ed, if you 
like” 


92 


OTHER FOLK. 


When will you begin ? ” 

There was no mistaking the resolute tone 5 the 
girl was in earnest. 

^‘It is to be a business arrangement. You need 
not be grateful or thank me one word. I shall set 
my own price. I always do when I write for papa. 
I shall be ready in three minutes — as soon as 
I have cleansed my hands.^^’ 

With a jump up the steps like a little girl, she 
was standing before him. 

But it must be done out of doors. I cannot be 
shut up in the house. This piazza is west j we can 
work here mornings. I will copy for you from 
half-past eight until twelve every morning. I 
write faster than Miss Olive, even, and more plain- 
ly. I was afraid you would ask her.” 

I wouldn^t dare,” he said, not looking at Miss 
Olive. I asked her something one day, and then 
she refused.” 

Did he remember that ? They were out in a sud- 
den shower ; he had a cough in those days, and she 
would not allow him to take oif his light overcoat 
and throw it over her shoulders. But had he for- 
gotten something else ? She had persistently refused 
when he had begged to write to her ; she had re- 


UNDER THE APPLE TREES. 


03 


fused and had given no reason. Had he forgotten ? 
Or was he thinking of that drive to Laurel Lane ? 
And I asked her something else — afterward.^^ 
It was something to her that he had not forgot- 
ten, although it made no difference after fifteen 
years ; it made no difference then, after awhile 5 
her mother and father would have been very 
angry. 

suppose Di has a table to lend us. Di-! 
Dianth ! Diantha ! ’’ he called, raising his voice 
with each added syllable. 

Human hands never are clean, said Leila, 
spreading her soiled fingers before his eyes. 
^^From a scientific standpoint it is impossible, and 
we are nothing if we are not scientific ; we must 
even be scientifically clean j even after such 
cleansing they return to their former untidiness on 
being tested by a towel. I love to dig in the earth 
with my fingers ; it is such clean dirt. Do you 
know somebody defines dirt as matter misplaced ? 
A strawberry on a white apron is dirt.’^ 

Yes,^^ he said and a right, natural human 
regret under some conditions may be a sin. Dian- 
tha ! Diantha ! he called in his musical bass. 

Miss Olive, do you know — ” Leila seemed 


94 


OTHER FOLK. 


bent on giving information^ that a person at 
eighty has changed his nails two hundred times at 
least. Your dainty finger-tips have always been 
my envy. Mr. Menzies, what do you expect of 
such digits ? My fingers are dirty, and I bite my 
nails. 

Good work/^ he returned sententiously. 

The beauty of utility. I have seen a page of 
yours ; nothing could suit me better, not even my 
own.” 

It will be a mercy to me ; I am drooping for 
an occupation,” said Leila, still regarding her fin- 
ger-tips, and thinking her own thoughts about 
these two people. 

Goethe says that perfect health of mind and 
body depends upon the pursuit of some practical 
occupation, and that brain workers should counter- 
act the one-sided tendency of study by an amateur 
carpenter shop or a thriving little farm,” Menzies 
returned, also regarding her finger-tips j then 
raising his voice again, ^^Diantha! Ho, Di- 
antha ! ” 

Dear me ! ” cried Diantha’s voice at the head 
of the stairway, is the house a fire ? ” 

I am — with an idea. Bring a table.” 


i 


UNDER THE APPLE TREES. 95 

A table ! repeated Diantha, hurrying down 
the stairs, ^^what on earth — 

Miss Leila has promised to work with me 
every morning out here on the piazza, with your 
kind permission.^’ 

ejaculated Diantha, looking sharply at 
Miss Leila. Can she punctuate ? 

No,” said Leila, wickedly, she can only ejac- 
ulate.” 

Stifling the ^^h’m” on her lips, Diantha asked 
what kind of a table would suit him. 

^^That one in the dining-room, in the corner, with 
things on it ; get them off, and I’ll get it out.” 

Leila flew off to put her hair and hands in order 
and to get the only pen she could write with 5 
she would find out what this silent man was made 
of, and that would be reward enough for a dozen 
busy mornings. While Diantha was crowding the 
things ” off the table into her big gingham apron, 
she was telling Mollie, who stood looking on, that 
that Miss Leila was a forward little thing, and had 
designs of some kind — she knew it by her eyes. 
Mollie’s reply was a good-humored laugh 5 that 
laugh sweetened her mother more than either of 
them ever suspected. 


96 


OTHER FOLK. 


The first morning of work on the piazza was a 
brilliant success, if success might be indicated by 
the hilarious mood of the two workers at the twelve 
o’clock dinner. 

With Leila at the table, the meals were quite 
another affair j Diantha still talked every instant ; 
but every body listened to Leila. 

Are you paid by the hour ? ” Diantha in- 
quired as the quick ^^Amen” of the blessing dropped 
from her husband’s lips. 

Yes,” said Leila, demurely, ^^if virtue is its own 
reward. If virtue is its own reward, I don’t see 
why vice isn’t its own and only punishment. Miss 
Olive,” she added, appealing to the lady at her 
side. 

It ^5,” replied Diantha, emphatically, who 
always considered herself the person addressed. 

Then why should there be any other place of 
punishment ? ” argued Leila, rebelliously. 

<< Why should there be any other place of re- 
ward ? ” asked Diantha, in quick demand. 

Leila appealed to Miss Olive with her eyes, but 
Miss Olive’s eyes reproved her, and she would 
make no reply. 

think the folks who are satisfied with this 


UNDER THE APPLE TREES. 


97 


world as hell, to be consistent, should be satisfied 
with this world as Heaven,^’ said Diantha, looking 
hard at Miss Vanema, thinking perhaps she had 
struck a blow at the root of her heterodoxy. 

But Miss Vanema^s eyes never saw anything 
she did not wish to see. 

As she was passing into the entry, after dinner, 
Diantha stepped up behind her and lifted her hand 
to her shoulder. 

^^Miss Vanema, I ivish you were a Christian, 
she said with feeling. 

A shiver went through Olive. 

Thank you,^’ she said very gently, freeing her- 
self from the sympathetic touch. 

With a snap in her eyes Diantha drew back and 
Olive passed through the entry. Diantha watched 
her as she went through the back yard and entered 
the broad doorway of the old house. 

The sorrowful brown eyes did not fill ; Olivers 
heart was too hurt for tears. For six weeks she 
had been with that woman, living her life under 
keenest inspection, and yet she did not know that 
she had been with Jesus, that she loved Him 
with all the strength of her life, and was trying to 
learn His will and do it with all her might. 


98 


OTHER FOLK. 


How utterly she had failed ? What would any 
spoken word be after such failure % 

She is very touchy/^ Diantha remarked to 
Mollie, as they scraped the dinner plates together 5 
and then, forgiving her with etfort, she resolved to 
pray for her every night when she said her 
prayers. 

Mollie, perhaps we can get her to go to the 
school-house, if she will persist in not going to 
church.^’ 

^^What do you want to get her to do anything 
for, mamma ? asked Mollie, impatiently. 

Because she is a soul under my roof — a soul 
to be saved,^^ said the conscientious little woman, 
sternly. 

Mollie did not reply, but she scraped the plate in 
hand with unnecessary vigor. Miss Vanema said 
lovely things, if her mother only knew ! 

There goes Menzies with a book, and that Leila 
after him. I told her about Virginia.^^ 

Mamma, that’s mean ! ” exclaimed Mollie, pro- 
voked. I Avould be ashamed to have a daughter if 
I thought girls were like that.” 

‘‘‘ You will never know human nature, child. It 
comes by nature. You are like your father — as 


UNDER THE APPLE TREES. 


99 


blind as a bat. You may go, too, and hear him 
read ; I’ll do the dishes,” said Diantha, trotting out 
into the kitchen with the pile of plates. Leila’s 
voice was under the window — 

MoUie ! Mollie ! ” 

MoUie’s radiant face was pushed out among the 
vines. Leila’s companionship was a pleasure to her 
the live-long day. 

Come as soon as you can. He’s got Aurora 
Leigh, We will not begin till you come. We’re 
going under the apple trees.” 

Oh, thank you,” cried Mollie, delightedly. 

You knew I wanted that. But it will be a full 
hour. There’s the dishes ! ” 

I’ll help you ! ” 

Oh, no,” said Mollie, dismayed. Mamma 
would never let you.” 

We’ll talk till you come.” 

But I want to hear the talk.” 

Then we won’t. We won’t even breathe till 
you come.” 

One laugh went into the hot kitchen, and the 
other laugh went down the lane to the hammock 
under the apple trees. 


100 


OTHER FOLK. 


Mollie, the corn is up/’ announced her father 
from the kitchen doorway. 

Is it ? ” Mollie returned carelessly. 

He turned away with a frown, disappointed that 
his daughter had no lively interest in his farin- 
work, his planting, his reaping, his orchard, and 
his fine cattle ; it had never occurred to him to 
take a lively interest in the things of her life, in 
the few books she read, (borrowed books, for he saw 
no use in buying books) in the pretty fancy work she 
did when her mother saved money to buy the ma- 
terials out of the weekly churning. When she was 
happy, he knew it, because she sang about the 
house ; when she was disappointed, he never 
guessed it, for she still sang about the house. 

Mollie hurried with the dishes, and Leila swung 
in the hammock, while Menzies lay on the grass, 
with his hands clasped under his head, and talked 
or did not talk, as his mood moved him. 

In her own room Olive was battling with herself. 
She was making herself hold to her promise. An 
afternoon of study was alluring ! How could she 
let herself slip through her own fingers with all this 
busy life about her ? She was like the man wait- 
ing at the pool while others were continually step- 


UNDER THE APPLE TREES. 


101 


ping down before him. Her days would be more 
a hardship than she dared face. Watching Leila 
at work for Allan Menzies, she had almost envied 
the two absorbed workers. It was more than hard 
— unbearable, to watch her doing what she would 
rather do than do anything else in the whole world. 
She would not sit and watch them through another 
morning. 

Before that money came she had not had time to 
be idle and see others work ; she wished that 
money had not come ? Did she wish Leila 
had not come ? Did she wish her youth back again 
— ^that youth with no opportunities for herself; 
that youth when others stepped in before her — not 
that youth back again, but a youth like Leila’s ; and 
she had had summer days like these, when Allan 
Menzies was young, too ; but now it was Mollie 
and Leila under the trees with him, and Olive Va- 
nema had grown middle-aged and could not laugh 
at nothing, as they did. He was laughing with 
them ; he had not outgrown them ; he had Vir- 
ginia Graham, and she had — nobody. She had not 
even herself, for she had failed in being the self she 
hoped to be ; her hidden life had been so hidden 
that Diantha did not know. If the hidden life be 


102 


OTHER FOLK. 


pictured in the face, was her face that face ? And 
that night before Leila came, she was glad that she 
was sweet to look upon. Allan Menzies had not 
come back into her life then. Now anxiety was 
sharpening her eyes, care thinning her cheeks, 
thought-taking writing tiniest lines in brow and 
cheek. Did a life hidden with Christ wear the face 
into this ? No wonder Diantha wished she were a 
Christian. The life with Christ was hidden, and 
she had to make it a glorious hiding-place by show- 
ing in her open life the glory of it. 

The voices under her window down under the 
thicket of green leaves, the bass and the silver tin- 
kle, brought her back to their world again. She 
must live in their world. Mollie’s laugh sweetened 
her as it did her mother; this girl had no envy or 
sinful regret; she rejoiced in her youth, she was 
not held back ; she stepped down with the others. 

I don^t believe many men covUd be as good as 
that,^^ Leila was bringing forth in her positive tone 
from out the store of her small wisdom. Are 
they, Miss Olive 1 she inquired, as Miss Olive 
stepped over the grass to her. 

No,^^ said Miss Olive, with the sunshine again 
in her eyes, only women are as good as that.^^ 


UNDER THE APPLE TREES. 


103 


Why, did you hear ? questioned Mollie, sur- 
prised. 

Oh, no, I only said what Leila expected me 
to say.’’ 

She was telling us about some one she knew, 
the saddest story ! ” said Mollie. 

The world was full of sad stories to Mollie. 

Leila always has a story,” Olive returned. 

Because papa knows so many people,” said 
Leila, rolling herself out of the hammock to put 
Miss Olive into it. You look so pretty in it, and 
I’ll tuck you in like a baby.” 

What is the story ? ” Olive asked, suffering 
Leila to tuck her in like a baby. 

Arthur Croft.” 

Olive knew about Arthur Croft. Leila had told 
the story to Mollie j even if Mr. Menzies listened, 
she was not concerned. Arthur had been engaged 
to the sister of a college friend, the plainest, most 
unattractive sort of girl — not that she could help 
that, Leila admitted, magnanimously, but she could 
help making Arthur know that she admired him, 
and making him think that he was bound to her. 
He was there a great deal, of course, weeks at a 
time, and she took it all to herself, when it was for 


104 


OTHER FOLK. 


her brother ; and before he knew it, the brother 
congratulated him, taking it for granted, because 
his sister acted so, and he never contradicted, but 
let it go on, for her sake ; and afterward she 
wouldn^t release him ; and she pretended to have 
the heart of a woman, and then she did release 
him, but he died a year afterward, and she had 
spoiled his life, as far as she selfishly could. She 
hated to be a girl, when she knew there were 
such girls in the world ! 

But think of such men ! said Olive. 

Such weak men ! exclaimed Leila, contempt- 
uously. I pity and reverence a man as strong and 
as weak as that. Arthur was so refined, so un- 
selfish, always looking at life from some one else^s 
standpoint and never having any of his own to 
stand on/^ 

That is the kind of men who do such things, 
said Olive. 

It’s very dangerous to have such men around,” 
retorted Leila, with her tinkle of a laugh. They 
might sacrifice themselves to you before you knew 
it. I would like to write a story with such a man 
and woman in it.” 

Menzies turned his head to look at her. 


UNDER THE APPLE TREES. 


105 


How would you end it ? ” he asked, in a mat- 
ter-of-fact tone. 

Just as I believe the Lord would, if He wrote 
it according to His truth,^’ she answered, dropping 
her lightness. 

How would that be ? he asked, amused and 
interested in her way of putting it. 

Mollie was not amused 5 she was trying to lose 
herself in Aurora Leigh. 

I would end it right, even if it began wrong 
and went on wrong, she answered vehemently. 

Suppose it would kill her to know,” cried Mol- 
lie, passionately. 

Let it kill her then. She might better die than . 
live believing a lie and helping somebody to live a 
lie. She steals something that isn^t meant for her 
in the first place.” 

No,” said the quiet voice in the hammock, 
she only takes what she thinks is meant for her.” 
^^Then you are on her side,” said Mollie, eagerly. 

I am so sorry for girls,” Olive said. 

So am I,” said Menzies. 

And then Leila repented that she had accused 
him of having no tenderness. 

^^But she snatches it — she doesn^t wait to know,” 


106 


OTHER FOLK. 


Leila went on. But I don^t believe she would die. 
A girl that would do such a thing wouldn^t be the 
kind to die. And then I don’t believe God lets the 
truth kill people. It is the lies that kill. Just 
think of a man being so afraid to speak the truth 
that he will let his lie curse himself and not bless 
her. As if God couldn’t take care of the truth 
after it was spoken 5 as if He couldn’t be trusted 
with it. He could have made Arthur love her, but 
He did not ; and then he was afraid to tell her the 
truth as God made her. What is the use of having 
your heart in God’s keeping if you will not use it 
as He makes it and keeps it % ” 

Perhaps your friend did not believe that,” said 
Menzies, ^Ghen he could not act upon it.” 

‘‘ He thought he made his own heart and kept it 
himself, you mean, and had a right to play false with 
it ? ’ I don’t believe he thought any farther, at first, 
than to save her pain *, and that’s a very weak way 
of doing. I wouldn’t trust any one who thought only 
of that. How would I ever kno\V when he was 
telling me the truth ? It has to come out j all the 
sorrow and suffering of the lie 5 and then who saves 
pain? Don’t you see it is the way of making 
pain ? And such pain that never could have been 


UNDER THE APPLE TREES. 


107 


but for that ! Suppose it goes on, and after mar- 
riage she finds it out. A girl must be very blind 
and not know what love is not to see through the 
make-believe. He never kissed her once, he told 
me so.^^ 

With his face turned from her, Menzies was watch- 
ing a scarlet bird with black wings as it flew from 
one tree-top to another. 

^^He had a very sweet, gentle nature,’^ Olive 
said, after a moment. I believe his death was 
hastened ; one can suffer himself into lung trouble.^^ 
And all for want of a little bravery and com- 
mon sense ! cried Leila, vehemently. I can’t 
talk about it, it makes me too angry.” 

Then we will read,” said Menzies, talk is 
hollow stufi*. Mollie, give me the book, dear, and 
don’t break your heart over Miss Leila’s hero. 
Every man has not a consumptive tendency ; if he 
had had an absorbing occupation to throw himself 
into, he wouldn’t have had any lungs.” 

But he wouldn’t be happy just the same,” said 
Mollie, handing him the book. 

A man who lives to be happy defeats his own 
end,” said Menzies, in the tone that had no tender- 
ness in it. 


108 


OTHER FOLK. 


But a man who lives to be true doesn%’’ re- 
torted Leila. Miss Olive, would you respect such 
a man 1 

I think I would love him/^ said Olive, in her 
sure voice. I know God is so sorry for the two 
that He will help them both.^^ 

The scarlet bird was flying overhead, away up 
overhead where the God dwelt of whom this sure 
voice was speaking. Menzies did not know Him, 
nor Jesus Christ whom He has sent. He was far 
up overhead. 

The voices went on talking 5 he did not heed 
them, he was far back in one June afternoon when 
Olive Vanema had been crying; the letters from 
home usually made her cry ; he had been tempted 
to toss this letter into the brook, and let it float 
down the stream and get tangled among the tall 
grasses and never make anybody cry ; he stood on 
the bridge and looked down into the water and 
thought about it ; to-day was her last day, he might 
keep it till morning and not give it to her until he 
said good-bye. If he did, would it make any dif- 
ference ? But she would come down to the gate to 
meet him and ask if he had her letter. He knew 
the writing on the envelope ; it was that rascally 


UNDER THE APPLE TREES. 


109 


father of hers who would not lift his hand to support 
his invalid wife and young daughter ; he was 
waiting for the position his talents and education” 
fitted him for ; that position was the almshouse, and 
he would give a dollar to tell him so. Olive had 
repeated her father’s words to him in her innocent 
voice, and he had mentally kicked him, for her 
sake. The summer term closed that day, and she 
had to go home and work untiringly the long 
vacation through. This country school had been 
her vacation, she said ; in autumn she would have 
a position in the city, in the grammar school ; Dr. 
Provost had influence with the board of education 
and had got it for her ; she was twenty, and had 
been teaching two years, at first as governess to 
three small boys on the next block, and her mother 
was pleased with that, for then she was at home 
before two o’clock j her mother did not like this 
country school j her uncle had sent her here, and 
she had to stay, and he guessed the force of the 
had,” for who else would pay her father’s bills ? 
Not that old skinflint, his brother. Her father must 
have some money ; the ninety dollars she earned 
this summer would not pay many bills. Her dress 
in the warm weather was gingham, her best dress, 


110 


OTHER FOLK. 


she seemed to have but one other, a brown thick 
one, that she wore in cool and rainy weather. 

The letter did not float down stream j he kept it 
in his hand j the gingham dress was at the gate, 
and her hand was outstretched for the letter. 

(She had asked permission to stay one week 
longer, and have it for a real vacation 5 her board 
would be but two dollars and a half, and then she 
would go home and do housework and fancy work to 
sell until school opened in September. But of 
course Allan Menzies did not know this.) 

She took the letter, but she would not open it j 
she talked a moment or two lightly and nervously, 
and then ran up-stairs to her room to read it by her- 
self. 

He stayed out in the front yard imtil Aunt Betsey 
came to the kitchen door and rang her small bell j 
he could see Aunt Betsey now in her afternoon 
calico and smooth, iron gray hair. 

Come, boy,^^ she called. 

That April he had gone into the country with 
his books 5 he had a cough then — he had been 
troubled very little with it since. Aunt Betsey said 
that summer cured him, that and the mullein leaves 
she steeped for him and made him drink. 


UNDER THE APPLE TREES. 


Ill 


He would miss this girl j he remembered how he 
leaned over a broken place in the fence and thought 
about her j it was not what she did, for she did 
nothing that other girls did not do ; it was not what 
she said, for she was not as lively as some girls, 
and not quick at repartee ; it was what she was, 
that touched him. She was not the prettiest girl in 
the village church j the girl in the pew in front 
had finer eyes; it was the look in Olive Van- 
ema^s brown eyes that would not let you forget 
her. 

She had been crying, her eyelids were red, he 
saw her as she came down the narrow kitchen stair- 
way at the sound of the bell at the foot of the stairs. 

It was a cosy tea-table — only three. He was 
sure Aunt Betsey put more than the usual amount of 
cream in her tea, because she could do nothing else 
for the girl with the reddened eyelids. 

He had spoken of Laurel Lane and taken it for 
granted that she would take the long walk with 
him in the sunset, coming back in the late twilight. 

I cannot go,^^ she said, and her voice was not 
clear of tears. 

He urged her and Aunt Betsey urged her, but 
she only said she could not go. She had her trunk 


112 


OTHER FOLK. 


to pack, and two letters to write to girls who had 
not been at school that last day. 

He was angry, and she saw that he was angry. 

After her packing was over she came down to 
the sitting-room. Aunt Betsey told him, and when 
she asked her if she were sorry to go, the girl 
hurst into tears. Aimt Betsey said she didn^t 
believe she had ever had much fathering and 
mothering. 

The next morning he saw her alone at the break- 
fast table, while Aunt Betsey was fussing about, and 
asked her if she would write to him once in a 
while. The summer had been very pleasant, and 
she had made it pleasanter. But she said No,” 
in that quiet way of hers, not caring how dis- 
appointed he was, and he started off before the 
stage came and was back only in time for a hurried 
good-bye and to help the driver stow her trunk 
away on the back of the stage. Could it be fifteen 
years % She had held her own better than he had ; 
but for her hair, and it was as pretty as a picture, 
no one would guess her age. Her rascally father 
was dead, her invalid mother, and skinflint of an 
uncle; Leila^s father seemed to be the only relative 
she had in the world, and he was not near enough 


UNDER THE APPLE TREES, 


113 


to have any name that came by blood or marriage — 
in fact, he was not a relative at all. 

He would like to speak of Laurel Lane and see 
if she remembered. But if she did or did not, 
what mattered it ? What mattered anything con- 
cerning this woman to the man engaged to be 
married to Virginia Graham. 

Would she love the man who could do the thing 
Arthur Croft did I He was near despising him. 

^^Miss Yanema, did you ever see laurel?^’ 
Mollie was asking. 

Miss Yanema, replied. 

^^It^s the prettiest stuff — the blossom and the 
flower. I want to get some, to paint.’’ 

Mollie, heart’s dearest, you shall have some to 
paint! Where can I discover it ? ” cried Menzies 
tragically, lifting herself up from the grass. 

I don’t know. I wish I did.” 

You’ll know some day/’ said Leila. I always 
get what I want. Don’t you. Miss Olive ? ” 

I can tell you better when I am a hundred,” 
said Olive. surely expect to have it then.” 

What is the loveliest thing that has happened 
to you to-day, Miss Olive f ” continued Leila. 

Give knew. A thought. It came while the girls 


114 


OTHER FOLK. 


were talking to each other. But she would not tell. 
It was this : because others stepped down before 
that man waiting at the pool, Jesus came to him. 

How glad he must have been that he was not 
one of those who stepped down ! 


IRONING DAY. 


Oil what men dare do ! What men may do ! 

What men daily do, not knowing what they do I ” 

— Shakespeare. 

One of Diantha’s strongest reasons for doing a 
thing was that she had made np her mind to do it. 
She had made up her mind to push Mollie. She 
had made up her mind to push Mollie this 
summer. Mollie was nineteen, nearly twenty 5 she 
was married on her seventeenth birthday j Mollie 
had been sent away to school j she had had advan- 
tages; they should be made to pay. 

Mollie should be married, and rich and happy ; 
she would work for it, and pray for it — as much as 
she dared ; she did not dare very far ; she could 
push Mollie, she could not push Providence. 

David, she said to her husband at five o^clock 


116 


OTHER FOLK. 


one morning the last week in June, I must hunt 
around and get a girl/’ 

A girl ! ” he repeated, shoving his foot into 
the boot he had left under the kitchen stove to dry 
the night before. 

Yes, a girl ! ” she emphasized, putting the 
kindlings into the stove. A girl to wash and iron 
and help generally.” 

I thought you had Mollie,” he said, giving his 
boot a pull. 

Mollie ! She is your daughter ! ” 

He laughed good-humoredly at the concentration 
of sharpness and scorn in her tone, and went out to 
the wood-shed for an armful of wood. 

To-day was Tuesday, ironing day. Mollie 
ironed all day in the hot kitchen j her mother had 
promised her three dollars a week as long as the 
boarders stayed. Mollie wished they would stay a 
year. She loved to do ironing ; she loved to do 
everything that had any housekeeping in it. 

As Leila sat writing on the piazza, she heard 
her singing over her ironing table ; she stopped 
writing for a moment to listen. Menzies was 
searching for a reference in a big book, and did 
not reprove the pause. Leila thought the music 


IRONING DAY, 


117 


must be the girPs own. something she had learned 
from the birds at their housekeeping in the apple 
trees : 


‘ The good housekeeper, 

How can I tell her ? 

By her cellar, 

Cleanly shelves and whitened walls. 

I can guess her 
By her dresser, 

By the hack staircase and hall, 

And with pleasure 
Take her measure. 

By the way she keeps her brooms; 

Or by peeping 
At the keeping 

Of her back and unseen rooms ; 

By her kitchen’s air of neatness, 

Aud its general completeness, 

Where in cleanliness and sweetness 
The rose of order blooms.’ ” 

Leila laughed and went on writing. She had 
never seen a girl like Mollie Van Der Zee. 

Menzies was lost in his work and did not appear 
to notice either the singing or the laughter ; had 
Olive been there she would have seen that he took 
note of both j unconsciously she had fallen into 
that old way of studying changes in his face and 


118 


OTHER FOLK. 


voice. She found enough to study j he was even 
more interesting than he had been when he was 
thin and smooth-faced : he had not changed, he had 
developed. If the old boy-and-girl times could 
come back, how she would enjoy a long talk ! She 
had not yet found some one to talk to to her hearths 
content. 

The girls^’ in the old house were busier than 
usual to-day j beside the ironing, there was the 
storepom to clean out and put in order for Di- 
antha^s new boarder, that rich young Mr. Croft. 

Diantha was having a lively time with new folks 
this summer. Mary Jane hoped it would come to 
something. Hannah knew it would came to one 
thing : sore feet and tired backs. The one window 
of this small bedroom looked out into the back 
yard 5 the floor was bare, rough, uneven j the 
cracked walls were whitewashed, the ceiling bro- 
ken in several places. Leila stood on the threshold 
and laughed. 

Andrew, the dainty, the fastidious, the refined, 
would that you could see it ! 

You wait ! said Hannah, pushing her aside 
with her elbow. 

Leila waited. An hour before supper time 


IRONING DAY. 


119 


Hannah called to her over the back yard fence to 
come and see. 

Oh, how sweet, how clean, how nice ! Why, 
how pretty ! exclaimed Leila, on the threshold. 

Miss Vanema, she helped ! ’’ said Hannah. 

She found things that I shouldn't have thought 
of putting in ! Old things, in the closets and up 
garret and in the back yard. She put up that little 
shelf herself, and that white stuff around the table, 
and she made the curtain.^^ 

^^With the window open, and the door into 
the hall, and the back door wide open to let all 
nature in, he’ll be cool enough and have room 
enough,” commented Leila. I’d like to exchange 
with him. He said he was willing to rough it; I don’t 
call this roughing it ! Miss Hannah, you have been 
two fairies.” 

Miss Hannah’s white, tired face beamed. There 
was the milking to do yet ; she and Sarah Lib did 
the milking and churning for fifteen cows ; before 
Leila came to look at the changes, she told Maria 
she was too beat out to put a foot into the cow-yard. 
Hannah’s thin cheeks, large, faded blue eyes, and 
limp, short calico dresses were very pathetic to 
Leila. 


120 


OTHER FOLK. 


My cousin will be delighted/^ said Leila. 

He has very simple tastes, luxurious fellow that 
he is. I wouldn’t take this room away from him 
for anything. Newport and Saratoga will be 
robbed of their charms.” 

Dianth gives us only a dollar a week for it — 
making the bed, clean towels and all — and only 
seventy-five cents for Miss Vanema’s room, because 
she takes care of it herself.” 

That’s a shame ! ” cried Leila. I wouldn’t let 
her have it.” 

It’s better than nothing,” returned Hannah. 

I am to have the rent of both rooms for some- 
thing I want.” 

Leila wondered what she could want.” If she 
were like this woman standing at her side, she 
thought she would desire nothing except to die and 
go to a world where there was something to have 
and look forward to. 

As she went back through the yard, she stopped 
on the kitchen stoop to take a glass of buttermilk 
from the chum ; Mollie was folding the last white 
piece of her day’s work and saying to Mr. Menzies 
that the bottom of that clothes-basket was the pret- 
tiest sight she had seen to-day. 


IRONING DAY. 


121 


You are the prettiest sight I have seen/^ he 
said, catching her in his arms and rumpling her 
white work, and then he whispered something that 
Leila did not hear. 

With a low, joyful explanation^ Mollie ceased her 
struggling to be free. 

O, Menzies, Fm too glad ! 

Never speak of it — I could not bear what would 
be said — I do not know how I am bearing it.^^ 

He knew that he had read the letter from Ger- 
many in the woods, standing in the path, and that 
then his knees had seemed to be giving out and he 
had fallen back and leaned against the trunk of a 
tree ; it was but a moment, and he gained strength 
and walked on 5 his watch told him that he stood 
there two hours. 

At the tea-table Diantha inquired when he had 
heard last from Germany. 

To-day.^^ 

How is Virginia ? 

Better.^^ 

Better ! Really better ! ” she echoed. How 
much better ? ” 

She has walked across the room twice. She 
kept the improvement as a surprise for me.^^ 


122 


OTHER FOLIC 


Then she will be coming home and we shall 
have a wedding.^’ 

She does not speak of coming home.^^ 

Then you will he flying out there.’^ 

Some day, perhaps/^ he answered in a happy 
voice. 

I thought something had happened to you. I 
never saw you look just so.^’ 

I never felt just so.^^ 

And then Mollie laughed ; there was something 
in the laugh so bewitching that everybody was be- 
witched and the laugh ran around the table. 

suppose Lucy Ann would come over and 
help/^ remarked Diantha, as soon as she could ob- 
tain a hearing, and seeming to address the table, 
I think ril go over after supper and set the mat- 
ter before her.^^ 

Oh, what shall I do then ? asked Mollie. I 
was getting rich.” 

You shall have a good time,” promised her 
mother. You can be young but once.” 

And I am getting on in years,” said Mollie 
seriously. 

Is your cousin young or old. Miss Leila ? ” 
asked Diantha. 


IRONING DAY. 


123 


answered Leila, with the audacity of 
youth. He is thirty-nine.^^ 

It^s hard to be so old,’^ said Menzies, with a 
laughing look at Olive. I’m sorry for old folks.” 

Twenty years older than you are, Miss Leila,” 
remarked Diantha, thinking that he was twenty 
years older than Mollie, also. But what was twenty 
years, when a man was in good health, and rich % 
Forty was the prime of life, for a man. And Mollie 
was a little old woman, so wise and thoughtful — that 
very day Menzies had said she would be a treasure 
to a man. 

Eun out, child, under the trees with the rest,” 
she said to Mollie after supper. It’s a pity if you 
can’t have a vacation, too.” 

Mollie ran up-stairs to put on a pink muslin and 
to braid her hair over 5 then she looked down at her 
heavy shoes, and exchanged them for slippers Avith 
black velvet bows. Her mother gave her a look as 
she came into the kitchen for inspection and told 
her she would do.” 

She shall not stay here and grow like Hannah 
and Sarah Lib and Maria,” her mother muttered, 
all washed out and good-for-nothing ; there’s 
enough in the world for my little girl and she shall 


124 


OTHER FOLK. 


have it. Her father might as well be a corn-cob 
for all the good he does her.^’ 

The three under the trees in the rustic chairs 
were having a good time, and Mollie was glad to be 
in it j for the evening she would play that she was 
a summer boarder ! Her dress was as pretty as 
Leila^s, and her slippers were prettier. Miss Van- 
ema was saying something: 

Japanese professor, he is in the Imperial 
University of Japan. 

What is his name ? ” interrupted Menzies. 
Toyamma,^’ said Olive quickly, and Leila was 
sure she had invented the name on the instant. 

^^This professor thinks that Japanese girls should 
be instructed in reading, writing, conversation, mu- 
sic, needlework and housekeeping.^’ 

And then she will make a good wife,” added 
Menzies. Did he say that 1 ” 

Probably he was thinking of that. Men do,” 
said Leila, selfish things ! ” 

They have a right to think of it,” maintained 
the man she was speaking to. Aren’t you on 
the man’s side of the fight ? ” 
am on my father’s side.” 

Whose side are you on, little Mollie ? ” asked 


IRONING DAY. 


125 


Menzies teasingly, drawing her down beside him ; 

it doesn^t make much difference, you are such a 
mite.^^ 

I am on my own side ; somebody has to 

be.’’ 

I didn^t know you knew you had a ^ side’ — any 
more than the birds know it.” 

That morning, seeing a redbreast swinging on a 
branch, Olive had said to herself (she could talk to 
herself to her heart’s content) — How happy that 
bird is with what the Lord said about it j if I were 
a bird and knew that, I’d be as happy as I want to 
be,” and then she had thought with indignation 
against herself, As if He hasn’t said more than 
that about me ! ” 

But if she were a bird, and had her naughty 
human heart, she would be among the thickest of 
the leaves, and every leaf a care. 

Mollie had no more care than the birds ; she had 
not even learned it, to take it to he.art, what the Lord 
said about the birds. Menzies kept his arm above 
her shoulder on the back of her chair j her glossy 
black head was against his cheek. She was inter- 
esting in herself j nothing had ever happened to her 
to make her interesting to anybody else. 


126 


OTHER FOLK. 


I like my life/^ ske said comfortaLly. I would 
like every summer to go on like this.’^ 

Ironing days and all ! exclaimed Leila, who 
hated a kitchen. Mr. Menzies, if you should 
guess what time it is, what time would you guess ? 

I should guess it was after the birds^ bedtime. 
Have you read of Lord Stowell % He could state, 
so they say, the precise hour or minute without 
looking at a clock or any artificial means of meas- 
urement.^’ 

Then he would have known how soon Andrew 
will be here. He is to come in the half-past seven 
train and walk through the woods. I gave him 
precise directions. He said Mrs. Di must not wait 
supper for him, as he might be later.” 

Has he a hundred pounds of flesh to walk oif 
asked Menzeis. 

I never saw such a walker ! He has tramped 
through Europe. Have I told you? He did it 
with a college friend. He says he is looking for a 
wife to walk with him. I’m afraid he will not find 
her in America. Some stout-shoed Englishwoman 
may do.” 

^^The Japanese professor didn’t put that on his 
list,” said Olive. 


IRONING DAY. 


127 


He has thrown over that position in the hank,” 
Leila went on discontentedly. Aunt Wesie will 
only laugh. She doesn^t see how she encourages 
him in idleness. Papa talks to her by the hour, 
and to him by the two hours. Aunt Wesie thinks 
his wife will redeem him out of his badness. He 
thinks he would like to be busy, and some friend — 
he has scores of friends — gets him something to do, 
and then he wearies for laziness and travel, and gives 
his employer notice that he intends to quit. Aunt 
Wesie is like him, in a woman’s way j she will not 
keep house ; last winter she was in Texas, and now 
she has gone to Alaska. She knows papa and I 
will always take him in. Now that he has Arthur’s 
money in addition to his own, he is worse than ever. 
All he cares for is being happy, and he is never 
happy.” 

Menzies laughed, and Olive thought the laugh 
must have been blown across the sea from Germany. 

He is coming here to taste the sweets of pov- 
erty,” said Olive. I hope you gave him the 
dimensions of that room, Leila.” 

Oh, I did. And our bill of fare ! ” 

Does he like very nice things to eat ? ” asked 
MoUie, with some anxiety. 


128 


OTHER FOLK. 


Very nice/^ repeated Leila, and I don^t know 
where he can get fresher and nicer. I hope your 
mother will charge him enough j he likes a great 
deal of waiting on.” 

I shall have to do that. Be sure to tell me 
everything he likes.” 

Never fear, he will tell you.” 

What does he look like ? Is he handsome ? ” 

All the men in our family are,” Leila answered, 
proudly. All the women are small and ugly, like 
me. They aU marry small and ugly women, too, 
more’s the pity.” 

wish he wasn’t so old,” said MoUie. ^^We 
never have anybody young come — only you. Last 
summer we had three old ladies.” 

You must look on and see the old folks have a 
good time,” advised Menzies. 

But it’s our turn ; you have had yours,” re- 
marked Leila. You wouldn’t like picnics and 
things % ” 

I am thinking of a picnic, ’' said Allan Men- 
zies, ‘^it was in prehistoric times. It was a 
school picnic — a country school picnic 5 a lot of 
boys and girls with their teacher. She was some- 
thing of a kid^ too 5 about as frisky as you two. 


IRONING DAY, 


129 


It rained about noon, and we bad our dinner 
in somebody barn — long boards were placed on 
barrels, and our only seats were peach baskets 
turned upside down. She baked cake the day 
before as merry as a kitten. She had merry 
brown eyes when they were not sad. She let me 
cut out the jumbles with a tin thing and bring in 
the woodj and we had the burnt hot ones to eat 
afterward in the wood-pile. That was fun ! I 
donT wonder you pity thirty-niners, girls.^^ 

I know how you grew old,’^ said Leila. How 
did she % 

^^She didn^t. She stayed young. She would 
like to sit on a wood-pile to-day and eat hot 
jumbles, only there isn’t any wood-pile or any 
jumbles.” 

There’s Andrew ! ” cried Leila, starting up, dis- 
cerning the familiar figure in the road. Let’s 
go to meet him. Come, Miss Olive.” 

But Miss Olive had an engagement ; she had 
promised Miss Hannah that she would take a peep 
at her dairy to-night. Mollie darted in to inform 
her mother of the arrival, and at her bidding to get 
a pitcher of milk and the strawberry shortcake for 
the traveler. 


130 


OTHER FOLIC. 


You are to do all such things, Mollie,- all the 
pretty things and the waiting/^ reminded her 
mother, in nervous haste. Your Aunt Lucy 
Ann is coming over every day from morning till 
night and you are not to do one bit of drudgery, 
but keep dressed up in your muslins in the after- 
noon and your light calico in the mornings j don^t 
come into the kitchen, there^s enough of other 
things to do, and stay out and have good times with 
Miss Leila whenever you can.^^ 

0, mamma,” said Mollie, gratefully, standing 
behind her and giving her a little kiss on the back 
of her neck, you are as lovely to me as you can 


VI. 


BY THE SEA AND IN THE FIELD. 

“ Oh, how full of briars is this working-day world.” 

— Shakespeare . 

“ There are two ways in which one nature may influence 
another for betterment — the one by strengthening the will, 
the other by heightening the ideal.” 

—George Macdonald. 

is as sweet as clover/^ remarked Olive, 
standing in the doorway of the spring-house and 
looking down. 

It takes a deal of work to keep it replied 
Hannah, straightening herself from the pan of milk 
she was skimming. 

^Ht takes a deal of work to keep the old world 
going around, said Olive, merrily, and yet we all 
love to give a push.’^ 

Hannah kept herself straight, with the skimming 

shell in her hand. But a body gets dreadfully 

131 


132 


OTHER FOLK. 


tired of it all— that’s why I want to earn money to 
get away.^’ 

To get away from your nest of a home ! Oh, 
liow can yon ! With your dear old father and 
kind old mother ! cried Olive, with longing in her 
voice. 

I am not a child, I am a woman grown, and 
IVe never had the thing I want.^’ 

Olive thought she wanted sunshine and rest and 
hope. 

You see,’^ lowering her voice, confidentially, 
we are so poorJ^ 

I thought you were so rich.^^ 

Kich in pans of milk and pounds of butter,” 
was the contemptuous retort, as she glanced over 
the shelves ; shifting her mental position, Olive 
stepped down and stood beside her ; what was life 
from her standpoint ? Jaded, heartsick, weary of 
the monotony of cow-yard and dairy, worn by the 
jangling of voices out of tune — thin, freckled hands, 
with protruding knuckles, cheeks wrinkled, not 
with age, but with the flesh that had fallen away, 
and that pathetic look in her large, pale blue eyes : 
what would life be to her if she were like that ? 

Miss Hannah, you need to go out to pasture.” 


BY THE SEA AND IN THE FIELD. 


133 


^^IVe had pasture all my life 5 I want to go 
where pavements are and brick walls and find 
work.^^ 

Excuse me, but it is the pasture you haven’t 
had! You are a country woman but you don’t 
know how to enjoy the country.” 

I don’t see much to enjoy ; it’s aU drudging, 
with nothing to show for it. I am forty-two — and 
what am I ? ” 

Olive thought, but did not tell her that she was a 
poor, starved, lost sheep, with greenest pasture 
and stillest water all about her. 

Will you come up to my room a while ? ” she 
invited eagerly, as a thought came to her. You 
shall rest in my cushioned rocker and I’U find 
something for you.” 

Your room is a haven of rest ; it will be like 
going out visiting. I don’t go visiting as often as 
the girls j somehow I have lost heart.” 

Then I’ll go up and light the lamp ; I love 
company j sometimes I am lonely up there.” 

The room was a haven of rest to Olive, with its 
cheese-cloth curtains tied back by green ribbons, 
the strip of rag carpet before the bed, her books 
and writing material on a cretonne covered pack- 


134 


OTHER FOLK. 


ing-box that Hiram had got for her in town and 
she had covered herself, the rocker and the camp- 
chair, the bed, with its white tiny pillows and pink 
and white patchwork quilt, and then there was out 
in the tree-tops all day long, and at night, when 
she awoke, with the stillness and stars above them, 
or even when it was dark, there was the coolness 
and freshness and rustling. 

Hannah^s hair was beautiful, abundant and a 
rich mahogany in color, the heavy coil at the back 
of her head had loosened itself from its usual tight- 
ness, and pulling her sunbonnet off carelessly had 
rumpled the front into something like girlish 
prettiness over her low, pale forehead. A long 
white apron was her only attempt at dressing 
up ; she brought her crocheting ; she would feel 
fidgety if her hands were still, 

‘‘‘ Well, I believe I would like it up here,” she 
said, heartily, as Olive gave her the rocker. 

The lamp with its white shade on the green 
and white cretonne table gave the room the finish- 
ing touch of cosiness and comfort. 

You didn^t know there were such possibilities 
in this small space,” said Olive, bringing her 
camp-chair to the table. Her Bible was opened in 


BV THE SEA AND IN THE FIELD. 


135 


the light of the lamp ; that day she had been read- 
ing about Peter and the tax. 

The blue eyes gave a hungry look toward the 
Bible. Miss Hannah had not learned how to read 
the Bible; she read her chapter’^ every night; and 
sometimes it rested her. 

It does seem queer/^ said Olive, in the voice 
of going on with what they had both been thinking, 
that when the Lord is so rich some of His dis- 
ciples have to be so poor. I don’t believe I knew 
until to-day how poor Peter was ! I used to be 
poor ; I am not rich now, but I do not have to 
work for money now as I have done almost all my 
life — even when I was a little bit of a girl I used 
to try to earn money, and I have been so poor 
that I hadn’t five cents for car fare.” 

How Diantha would have been surprised at this 
frank avowal ! how she would have been delighted 
to see Miss Vanema come out of herself! Hannah 
was not surprised ; Miss Vanema had never 
seemed shut up to her ; she listened like a child. 

Peter was the Lord’s disciple and loved Him 
and went about with Him, giving up his daily work 
to be with Him and help Him when he could. 
When the tax — such a little sum — ^was demanded, 


136 


OTHER FOLK. 


Peter had no money to pay. He told the Lord 
about it. And even He had no money to pay for 
Himself. The Lord who made all the earth and 
owned it, had not thirty cents ! 

Hannah remembered that she had nine dollars 
and thirty cents in a box in her top drawer. 

I suppose the Lord liked to be so poor,” she 
said, after thinking a moment. 

Why do you think He liked it ? ” Olive asked. 

Because He needn^t have been. He could have 
made all the gold He wanted out of nothing. Why 
did He like to be so poor I ” she asked, with great 
interest. 

Turning the leaves, Olive read — how she loved 
the words ! — ^ Ye know the grace of our Lord 
Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for 
your sakes He became poor.^ He loved to be poor 
for our sakes. Now if we may only love to be poor 
for His sake ! ” 

Are we poor for His sake ? ” inquired Hannah, 
staying her fingers, surprised and gladdened. 

Could He make us rich if He chose ? ” asked 
Olive. 

Hasn’t He made you rich I ” was the quick, 
jealous retort. 


£V THE SEA AHD IN THE FIELD, 


137 


Yes, I am rich. As you think of me, I am 
very rich. I have things you would like to have, 
and I do not have to work to get them. He has 
made me rich. When He wanted me to be poor, 
He kept me poor. I did earn money, but it was 
not for myself, and it was not enough for what I 
had to do with itj one day my mother needed 
medicine and I had no money to buy it — and I 
could not always pay the rent, and many a day I 
had no lunch because I would not take the money 
to buy it when the money was needed more at 
home. My mother was ill for years and could eat 
only delicacies and food that cost more than cheap 
food. We had to buy bundles of wood for kind- 
lingj I used to save an old spool, if I found one, to 
help kindle the fire j and only my mother could 
have an egg for breakfast and I always drank my 
coffee without milk.^^ 

That was being dreadful poor,” exclaimed 
Hannah. I never knew any one as poor as 
that.” 

^^Now it is His will to make me rich, what you 
call rich, although when I want to give money 
away, I have to do without something I want. He 
had work for me to do when I was poor, and I am 


138 


OTHER FOLK. 


sure He has work for me to do when I am rich. 
The work is for His sake, so the poverty or the 
riches are for His sake.^^ 

Is the work for His sake, did you say % in- 
quired the hard-working woman, with an inflection 
of surprise. 

We work for those we love best, don^t we ? ” 
Olive asked. 

Yes, I suppose so. I am saving to get a 
wheel-chair for ma. I suppose you love Him best, 
some folks do, and so you work for Him, as you 
call it.^^ 

I do love Him best. I know I do. I am rest- 
ing for His sake now, that I may be strong to work 
for His sake by and by.’^ 

It was not hard to speak of herself to this hun- 
gry-hearted woman. 

Did Peter get his money to pay the tax ! Pd 
like to know that. Pa and Dianth always grumble 
about the tax bill.^^ 

Then Olive told her the story of the fishing and 
finding the money in the fish’s mouth. 

It did some good to tell the Lord about it,” re- 
marked Hannah, after working meditatively for a 
minute. I don’t see why it doesn’t now.” 


BY THE SEA AND IN THE FIELD, 


139 


Neither do said Olive, smiling. I think 
Peter’s plan is worth trying.” 

But He wouldn’t hear us like that and let us 
get money as easy,” objected Hannah. 

How easy did Peter get it I ” 

Yfhy ! as easy ! By taking it out of the fish’s 
mouth.” 

^^How did he get the fish ?” asked Olive, smil- 
ing. 

But Hannah was not smiling. 

Why, I suppose — oh, did he go fishing for it ? ” 
The Lord told him to go to the sea — that may 
have been quite a walk, to cast a hook — he had to 
get that ready — and then bring up the fish, and 
then he had to open the fish’s mouth and take it 
out. The Lord could have said : ^ Look down in 
your hand,, there’s the money.’ But He didn’t. 
Peter was a fisherman, his work was fishing, the 
Lord told him to go to work — but the money, that 
was the miracle ! Peter worked and the Lord 
spoke and it was done. You work and the Lord 
blesses your work. He loves work. He loves the 
work of the pasture and the dairy as well as the 
work of the sea. In the fish’s mouth Peter found 
exactly the piece of money the Lord wanted j 


140 


OTHER FOLK. 


enough for His tax and Peter’s. He was working 
for himself — it was his own tax to be paid, and the 
Lord’s, too ! Oh, I am glad of that ! 1 am glad he 
did that for his Master. You see, dear Miss Han- 
nah, that He is willing for us to work for ourselves, 
and He gives us enough at the same time to have 
something for Him. Half was for Him. I wish we 
could give half to Him, don’t you ? ” 

don’t know,” said Hannah, doubtfully. 
never do give much in church. I always think I 
can’t afford it.” 

Peter could afford it.” 

Yes, but the Lord the same as gave it all to 
him.” 

Doesn’t He the same as give it all to 
you?” 

I work — I work hard.” 

Peter worked. His trade was fishing as much 
as yours is making butter.” 

But,” with an uncomfortable laugh, I don’t 
find money in the churn ! ” 

0, Miss Hannah, those golden pounds and 
pounds ol butter ! ” 

But butter is dreadful cheap now. I got only 
twenty cents for the last.” 


BY THE SEA AND IN THE FIELD, 


141 


Peter didn^t have one cent over after he paid 
the tax billd^ 

I wonder how he got his next money/^ said 
Miss Hannah, evading the point. 

I do not believe he ever again found money in 
a fishes mouth. I know one time a beggar asked 
him for something, and he told him that he had 
neither silver nor gold.” 

I didn’t know Peter was so poor as that j I 
could always give a ten-cent piece.” 

When Peter worked afterward, it was not sil- 
ver and gold he had to give.” 

Olive was speaking to herself now. 

Now that Peter’s Lord was taking care of her so 
richly, had she not herself to give % And might 
she not ? Must she not % Could she talk to other 
women as she was talking to this woman ; to poor 
women and girls in the city who were hungry for 
other things than bread — as well as hungry for 
bread ? Might she not go up the stairs to them 
and sit and be sorry for them and talk to them and 
tell them of Him who was poor for their sakes, that 
they might be rich, and tell them how to be 
rich ” ? 


142 


OTHER FOLK. 


TLe Lord was in Peter’s house ; He loved to be 
in a poor man’s house — ” 

guess you are like the Lord in this house then/’ 
interrupted Hannah, with moved abruptness. I 
shall always think when I take the butter up ! 
I’ll try and give ten cents every Sunday after 
this.” 

Somebody was whistling under the windows. 

That’s Hiram ! ” said Hannah. ^^He can whis- 
tle like music — it’s like a church organ sometimes. 
Mollie whistles with him sometimes ; pa says it’s too 
bad for her to whistle, that ^ whistling girls and 
crowing hens always come to some bad ends,’ but I 
do like it.” 

I heard a lady whistle once, and it was the 
sweetest music I ever heard.” 

When Hime whistles that tune Mollie always 
comes over. They like to come over here ) Dian- 
tha scolds Hime and orders him around and says 
he wastes his evenings because he likes to read with 
Mollie. Hime is a neighbor’s boy, and has been 
with us years. His father has four other sons and a 
small farm, so he let Hime come to work for David 
when he was only twelve ; he’s twenty-two now and 
looking around for something bigger to doj Mollie 


BV THE SEA A HD IN THE FIELD. 


143 


wants him to do something bigger j he^d do any 
thing for her.” 

Hiram whistled that tune for fifteen minutes, 
walking impatiently up and down under the trees, 
but Mollie did not come over,” she was in the 
dining-room listening and laughing with the others 
as Andrew Croft ate his strawberry shortcake and 
gave a comical account of his experiences in find- 
ing the place. 

Aren’t you coming down again to-night ? ” Han- 
nah asked, rising and rolling up her work. 

I think not j I’ll put out the light and sit here 
at the window.” 

You look as though you had heard good news,” 
said the woman, lingering at the door. 

I have,” said Olive, wondering if Allan Menzies 
was as glad with his good news as she was with 
hers. 

With her hand on the door-latch Hannah seemed 
unwilling to go. 

I hope Mr. Croft — if that’s his name — will like 
his room as well as you do yours.” 

I think he will like it, but it will not be as 
much to him. This room is more than I can tell 
you to me.” 


144 


OTHER FOLK. 


It’s poor — like Peter’s house/’ said Hannah as 
she vanished. 

Sitting in the starlight at her window^ Olive 
heard voices in the lane, and then she heard 
Andrew Croft’s voice saying good-night to Leila. 


VII. 

THE THING OLIVE WANTED. 

** Each human being is a person diiferent from all others. 

“Each man is sent into the world to work out by his acts 
or words some particular truth which he alone possesses; and 
the inimitable speciality of each man^s experience must pre- 
sent things to him in an aspect which can be exactly the 
same for no other.’’ 

— Hugh Macmillan. 

The next morning Olive was swinging in her 
hammock with the happiness of her ^^good news 
in her face. If there were only somebody to tell 
and — ask! Leila’s father would come after a 
while for a few days ; he would commend her and 
show her just where and how to go to work. 

Andrew Croft stepped out of the back door of the 
old house, and through the grass came around to 
the hammock. 

^^This air is a benediction to you/’ he said, looking 

145 


146 


OTHER FOLK. 


around for something to seat himself on. ^^You 
look like a new creature.^’ 

I am growing — that’s what I came for.” 

At the foot of one of the trees was a flat stone, it 
was so near the hammock that he could catch the 
twisted ropes as it swung toward him j he sat down, 
and catching the ropes held the hammock still. 

^^Flat stones grow for me,” he remarked, to 
keep silence from becoming awkward. This hostess 
of ours is worth coming half a hundred miles to see 
— and hear. Some authors think more clearly and 
rapidly pen in hand j she thinks more clearly and 
rapidly tongue in hand. I believe she puts her 
thoughts into audible words when she has no 
audience beside herself. She’s got to think, there- 
fore she’s got to talk. It’s a mercy there’s a rear 
building for us ; I just escaped from her. Who is 
that Menzies Leila is so thick with ? ” 

Olive pushed her book from her and slipped her 
glasses oif, dangling them from her fingers by the 
slight gold chain. 

Knowing men, tell me what you think he is.” 

I know what he is: I took his measure last 
night. Who is he*?” 

^^He is Allan Menzies, the eldest brother at 


THE THING OLIVE WANTED, 


147 


home, there are three youngers sisters and two 
brothers j the mother is not living, the father is a 
retired something ; he is a literary man — I don’t 
know how literary nor exactly what his work is. 
Fifteen years ago we spent three months under the 
same roof j there was nothing objectionable about 
him then j I am scarcely acquainted with him now. 
He and Leila enjoy each other.” 

I should think so ! Is it a good thing for her 1 ” 
he inquired with the solicitude of a near relative. 

Enjoyment is good for all of us.” 

That’s your old trick of evasion,” he exclaimed 
impatiently. 

You are here, judge for yourself.” 

I don’t know girls.” 

You know men, that’s more to the point.’^ 

He laughed and gave the hammock a push, then 
caught it as it swung back and held it fast. 

did not answer your letter. I intended to 
come even before I knew Leila was coming. Do 
not be reserved with me. I deserved it ; I was too 
confident j I thought I knew you. Will you con- 
sider it unwritten ? ” he asked with his easy air of 
assurance. 

cannot consider mine unwritten.’* 


148 


OTHER FOLK. 


I ask you to consider them both unwritten.” 

I cannot ; please don’t talk about it.” 

You shall not be troubled, if you will let me 
stay.” 

I am glad to have you stay for Leila’s sake.” 

You are happy enough without me.’’ 

I think — I am very happy this morning.” 

You have but to express your wish. I never 
wanted anything as I wanted what I asked for in 
that letter. I know I blundered.” 

No, you did not.” 

^^Will you tell me why you wrote as you 
did?” 

For the same reason that you wrote as you did 
— because I wanted to.” 

May I ask you one question ? ” 

You have been so good to me, Andrew ! ” she 
said, her voice breaking with a feeling that she 
could not define. Ask me twenty, if you like. I 
am not at all what you think I am. I am very weak 
and selfish, I am not literary, as you like a woman 
to be; I am nothing I wish to be.” 

You are all I wish you to be, and more lovely 
than I can appreciate. I am not half good enough 
to be sitting here talking to you, but I have to be 


THE THING OLIVE WANTED, 


149 


here, all the same. Do you care for some one else 
more than you care for me I The assurance was 
still in his voice and manner. 

The slight gold chain was twisted about her fin- 
ger ; she untwisted it j then she raised her frank, 
steadfast eyes. 

I do not know that I do. I do not know any 
one else that I might care for.’^ 

You have never been in society, I know. But 
I was sure there must be somebody. You know 
this Menzies and — Leila’s father.” 

His eyes were studying every line of her 
face. 

She smiled and her eyes did not falter. 

^^Mr. Menzies is engaged and Dr. Provost has 
been my good friend half my life.” 

He let the hammock go again, then caught it and 
held it fast. 

I was just wishing for Dr. Provost ; I need 
him to answer a few questions. I want to ask him 
about working girls and working women ; about 
women in their homes, women who need other 
women to help them.” 

. How much does he know ? ” 

That is what I am desirous of learning,” 


150 


OTHER FOLK. 


I brought a book for you, it will answer your 
questions ; I have been intensely interested in it ; 
it will break your heart. 

I want my heart to be broken. In this soft, 
sweet air, with the bees humming about me, with 
that robin flying off with a bit in his mouth and 
this thicket of greenness overhead, what do I know 
of the gripe of poverty, misery and sin in some 
women^s lives ; I have so much — some woman has 
nothing of what I have, I want to teU her — 

Tears choked her rapid utterance. 

Olive, what do you want to tell her 

It will come when I am with her, it will be 
given to me. I can live on less and have some- 
thing to give her. I would like to live among 
them and show them how to have clean homes, and 
how to keep themselves like the women we love to 
be with. I could not sleep last night for thinking 
of it.^^ 

Your life has always been hard, you have been 
one of the working women *, you have a right to 
ease and luxury.^^ 

^^That work will be ease and luxury.” 

Not for you. You will give your life for it.” 

That is what my life is for.” 


THE THING OLIVE WANTED. 


151 


It will soon be ended 5 how long could you 
bear a strain like that I 

You wiU see/’ she answered, joyfully. I am 
not a bit afraid. I suppose I must go to a training 
school first and then some society will send me.” 

Where do you expect to be sent, pray 1 ” he 
asked, dryly. 

Where I am needed, in some large city. I 
prefer New York. It is nearer the Provost’s. I 
would like to be near some one I know.” 

Why don’t you go to London ? ” 

You may laugh. I am in deadly earnest.” 

I know you are.” 

May I see that book ? ” 

Yes, if it will sicken you and frighten 
you.” 

I am not afraid of the truth.” 

^^Wait! Keep still,” he said, as she made a 
movement to slip out of the hammock. I will get 
it and read a chapter to you.” 

Perhaps Leila will come, and some one else ; 
your reading is too much a treat to have all to my- 
self.” 

After he left her, she closed her eyes and tried to 
think ; she saw his face through her shut eyes j he 


152 


OTHER FOLK. 


was like his mother’s brother, Dr. Provost — tall, 
dark, handsome, winsome, magnetic j but this 
man was very selfish, he lived for no one in the 
world but Andrew Croft, and he did not even knew 
that he was selfish. 

The gold chain was twisted and untwisted many 
times before Andi’ew returned with the book ; she 
loved this chain, it was Leila’s gift, she had given 
it to the woman she delighted to honor ; a gift sig- 
nified much to this woman, almost everything she 
had ever owned had been purchased with her own 
earnings ; this chain with the eye-glasses was the 
one piece of jewelry ” she wore, beside the nec- 
e'ssary gold pin to fasten her collar. She had seen 
a tiny diamond, like a spark of fire, on a girl’s fin- 
ger one day in a street car, and for the first time 
in her life wished she had something like it. 

In her girlhood she had never had the pretty 
things so many girls delight in ; some of them she 
might have now j she could save up,” and buy that 
tiny spark of fire j but could she, with the cry of 
working girls and little children in her ear % 
Twenty-five dollars would keep some tired mother 
and baby in the country, how long % If there were 
room — if Miss Hannah might make room ? 


THE THING OLIVE WANTED, 


153 


Before she had quite finished the furnishing of 
another empty room in the old house, and nestled 
the tired mother and child down into its restfulness, 
Andrew returned with a book in paper cover. 

That old man is poking about in the lane,’’ he 
remarked j this world must be very empty to the 
old.” 

Unless there is another world very full,’’ said , 
Olive, who had found some one to talk to, but not 
altogether to her heart’s content. 

This outlook of yours over the meadows and 
across to the uneven line of purple mountain is very 
fine, but a landscape to me is never perfect without 
water,” was the reply, after a pause j the other 
world very full was an unknown country to Andrew 
Croft. 

Is the ocean perfect to you ? ” 

Olive had had but a glimpse of the ocean. 

Not a perfect landscape,” he said, seriously. 

Sometime I want a whole long summer by the 
sea,” she said, with a flash of appreciation of his fun. 

^^Some summer when you are going about among 
tenement houses j you had better give up having 
air-castles.” 

That is an air-castle,” 


154 


OTHER FOLK. 


I fervently hope it may stay in the air ! What 
can one woman do ! I run away from the cities 
every once in a while because I can no longer bear 
the agony of the suffering I cannot avoid seeing.^^ 

It would be more unselfish to stay behind and 
help ! 

Sympathy wears me out and doesn’t pay.” 

If I could lie down at night and know that one 
life was made easier and one heart had learned 
something of God I could leave all the other suffer- 
ing to His tender care and go to sleep.” 

Why not leave that one life, too % Can yon 
trust Him for all the others and not that ? ” 

Because He had given me something for it, 
and what He gives I must needs take. Andrew, 
would you dare not go if you were sent % ” she 
asked in impressive appeal. 

The heavens will have to be opened and the 
earth will have to quake before I can believe that I 
am sent.” 

Paul couldn’t believe that he was until some- 
thing like that happened to him,” said Olive, 
quickly. 

And he was not sent until it did happen,” was 
Andrew’s retort, as he took his seat upon the stone. 


THE THING OLIVE WANTED. 


155 


I came across a wise article in a wise magazine 
last week: ^ Must Humanity Starve at Last f ^ 

What nonsense ! cried Olive. As if God 
would let His world starve ! 

You seem to think His world can’t get on with- 
out you.” 

It couldn’t ! That is why He put me here.” 

Shall I begin the book, or select chapters ? ” he 
asked, with a laugh at her repartee. 

He had found some one to talk to to his heart’s 
content. 

You know the book ; do as you think wiser.” 

^^Then 111 read ^Street Trades Among Women.’” 

She kept her hammock still and listened with 
breathless interest j he turned the pages and read 
another chapter, Women in General Trades;” 
then, at the asking of her eyes, he went on and 
read French and English Workers.” 

The reading was interrupted by the sound of the 
dinner bell in Diantha’s back yard ; he closed the 
book reluctantly ; slipping out of the hammock, she 
exclaimed, I haven’t had such a morning since 
I’ve been here.’’ 

Then I will begin and go through. The chapters 
on Paris are especially interesting. But don’t let 


156 


OTHER FOLK. 


it set you off on a pilgrimage to all the far coun- 
tries of the earth. 

I can’t. My own language is all I can 
speak. 

Leila had a tired look in her eyes at the dinner 
table and Andrew suggested that she should take a 
vacation from that piazza work. 

Oh, no,” she answered, brightening, it grows 
more and more absorbing.’* 

I hope Menzies pays you well,’^ said Diantha, 
in her suspicious voice. It is making you more 
crooked than ever.^’ 

^^It will take a whole gymnasium to straighten 
me,^^ Leila answered good-naturedly. I am almost 
an interrogation point — with the questions left 
out.^^ 

She dropped her eyes demurely with her last 
shot. 

Mollie stood behind her mother^s chair, awaiting 
orders, in a pretty blue calice and ruffled white 
apron. 

Hiram colored angrily as she came to his side to 
fill his glass with water. 

This is no work for you, Mollie,^^ he said, 
under his breath, take my seat.^^ 


THE THING OLIVE WANTED. 


157 


No/’ she whispered, with a gentle pressure on 
his shoulder, mamma likes it. It helps her.” 

It may be the fashion,” he muttered, but it is 
no fashion for you.” 

Menzies did not notice her as she came to his 
side; he was speaking to Miss Vanema, and saying 
that she looked only at the bright side of life. 

Then how can she have a fair view of it,” 
replied Diantha, who kept herself alert in replying 
to every one at the table. ‘‘No one sees the whole 
moon who sees only the bright side of it ! ” 


VIII. 

THE THINGS OLIVE DID NOT SAY. 

I have no other hut a woman’s reason, 

I think him so because I think him so.” 

The idea of her life shall sweetly creep 

Into his study of imagination.” 

—Shakespeare. 

Olive, shall we go on with our book in- 
quired Andrew, with his familiar air, as she 
stepped out into the entry after dinner. 

Allan Menzies had not lost his trick of coloring 
like a girl ; he colored with displeasure, and gave 
the lady addressed a quick glance. Olive saw the 
displeasure, as she had a way of seeing everything, 
and in pondering the cause of it, forgot to reply to 
the eager question. It was more like a demand 
than a question j perhaps the tone was the thing 

that vexed Allan. In the secret chamber of her 

158 


THE THINGS OLIVE DID NOT SAY. 159 


tlionghts he was Allan to her as he had been 
these fifteen years. . 

If the others will come/^ she answered. Here 
at ^ Pond Lily Farm^ we have learned to share our 
tid-bits.^’ 

I have not promised to read to the others/^ he 
said, rudely. 

Haven’t you voice enough to go around? ” 
asked Olive, with the merry look in her eyes. 

While she was giving this light reply, she was 
perfectly aware that something in her was touched 
because Allan Menzies cared how somebody spoke 
to her. 

Had she not loved him long ago, before there was 
any Virginia Graham ? And then she was contrite 
and ashamed 5 in the secret chamber of her heart 
she was not a very strong or brave woman. 

Because I have if you haven’t,” said Menzies, 
emboldened by something beneath that merry look, 
something of the old times he had not forgotten, 
and Miss Yanema and the girls are just crazy to 
go on with Aurora Leigli.^^ 

Miss Yanema has outgrown that,” returned 
Andrew. know she read it before she was 
fifteen.” 


160 


OTHER FOLK. 


And that is why I must hear it again/^ said 
Olive, ^4hat was so very long ago.^^ 

Diantha stopped in her brisk moving around the 
table, in her after dinner work. 

^^Don^t quarrel about a book,” she said, ^4ike two 
big boys.” 

It isn^t about a book ! ” returned Andrew 
significantly, as Olive passed out. Miss Mollie, 
can you leave your household gods under your 
mother’s care and come to the reading ? ” 

Oh, yes, thank you,” cried Mollie delightedly, 
with the consent of her mother’s eyes. Where is 
the place f Miss Vanema’s hammock ? ” 

Yes,” said Andrew, discontentedly. His 
thoughts usually came spontaneously to his lips, 
with little regard for any one besides the thinker 5 
as he crossed the yard with Mollie under his wing, 
he made a resolution that he kept to himself. In 
the depth of a heart that did not understand a 
simple and wise woman, he believed that Olive 
Vanema could not, in her loneliness and poverty, 
withstand the temptation of his wealth, to say noth- 
ing of the charm he believed to be in his person- 
ality — she was only holding off to draw him on j he 
had, without his usual worldly wisdom, given her 


THE THINGS OLIVE DID NOT SAY, 161 


too mucli assurance of his regard j had he not that 
morning told her that in all his life he had never 
desired a thing so much ? — more fool he ! — and the 
resolution he kept to himself was that he would 
withdraw his forces and concentrate them about this 
beautiful little creature who was walking gravely at 
his side, half afraid of him. Before the summer was 
through Olive Vanema would be glad enough to 
ask him to write another such letter — and he 
would not until he had punished her. A poor 
school-teacher, not young or beautiful, to throw him 
off with a dash of her pen — and tongue! If it 
were not for that look in her eyes- that held him 
fast, he would take this wild rose in earnest, and 
let her bloom the world into youth again for him I 
There was something about this little girl as well 
as about this green old yard he was walking 
through that made him care for his youth again — 
for the look ahead and the things within his 
grasp. 

Andrew Croft was not a bad man 5 he was sim- 
ply not a good man. He was capable of great ten- 
derness — when he thought of it ; he said so many 
wise things and pretty things, that, in his own esti- 
mate of them, they covered a great deal of not do- 


162 


OTHER FOLK. 


ing them. Olive had been taken with them ; 
but she had never been taken with him. 

Menzies and Leila came by way of the lane ; 
Leila had in her hand her own copy of Aurora 
Leigh, Olive brought down from her chamber her 
small camp-chair 5 the two girls sat in the ham- 
mock; Menzies threw himself lazily upon the grass, 
Andrew found his flat stone again. Miss Hannah, 
in her flapping sunbonnet and limp calico, was 
working butter in a huge wooden bowl, sitting in a 
broken-backed chair under a tree near the entrance 
of the spring-house. 

Olive wondered, as she looked at her, how great 
a change must needs be wrought before she could 
become like one of them and grow in God^s way 
for her in their world ! But where was the need ? 
She was in her own world — where God was also. 

^^To the Greeks the gods were personal friends,’^ 
remarked Menzies, bringing his thought somewhere 
out of the self that Olive used to think she under- 
stood. 

Oh, how sad ! ” she exclaimed. 

Why, I think that was beautiful,’^ said Mollie, 
who had studied about the Greeks. 

If only in this life — ’’ Olive quoted, then we 


THE THINGS OLIVE DID NOT SAY. 163 


are of all men most miserable. Think what the 
disappointment would be, little girl.’^ 

Making a god and then never finding any/^ re- 
plied. Mollie, who had many thoughts over ironing 
and sweeping that nobody guessed. Is that any 
harder than being disappointed in people ? ’’’’ 

Andrew laughed and asked her how she knew 
enough of life to know that anybody ever was dis- 
appointed. 

That doesnT take much knowledge, does it, 
Mollie ? said her cousin. Old fellow that I am, I 
am learning what fun it is not to be disappointed 
in people ! There are lots of things turning out 
right in this crooked old world ! A long look ahead 
will settle most questions.” 

Mollie was not looking ahead,” said An- 
drew. 

With the paper-covered book in her hand that 
Andrew had tossed carelessly into her lap, Olive 
v,ras running over the table of contents and missing 
its meaning, for she was thinking of the man who 
cared to read this book, with - its burden of human 
life, and toss it aside as he tossed other things aside 
as all through with ) she was scarcely surprised, he 
was the natural result of being himself. He would 


164 


OTHER FOLK, 


do something the day after to-morrow — when he 
did everything. 

Olive, will you read ? he asked. You seem 
absorbed.’’ 

Here is something for you, girls,” Olive ex- 
claimed, with sudden interest. 0, Miss Hannah, 
come here a minute with your butter bowl ! I’ll 
tell you how in this world so fuU of folks one old 
woman earns her bread and butter.” 

Miss Hannah came with her bowl, she set it on 
the grass, then went back for her chair ; she was 
always interested in hearing how women out in the 
world earned their bread and butter. 

I will read about the place where she lived,” 
said Olive, more interested in this one auditor than 
in any of the others. It is in Paris.” 

Paris is the finest city in the world,” said Han- 
nah, eager to show her knowledge. Our fashions 
come from there.” 

^ The buildings are piled together, great masses 
separated by blind alleys, some fifteen hundred 
lodgings in all, and the owner of many of them is a 
prominent philanthropist, whose name heads the 
list of directors for various charitable institutions, 
but whose feetj we must believe, can hardly be ac- 


THE THINGS OLIVE DID NOT SAV. 


105 

quainted with those alleys and stairways, narrow, 
dark, and foul. The unpaved ways show gaping 
holes in which the greasy mud lies thick or mingles 
with the pools of standing water, fed from every 
house and fermenting with rottenness. The side- 
walks, once asphalted, are cracked in long seams 
and holes, where the same water does its work, and 
where hideous exhalations poison the air. Within 
it is still worse j filth trickles down the walls and 
mingles underfoot, the corridors seeming rather 
sewers than passages for human beings, while the 
cellars are simply reservoirs for the same deposits. 
Above in the narrow rooms huddle the dwellers in 
those lodgings, whole families in one room, its sin- 
gle window looking on a dark court, where one sees 
swarms of half-naked children, massed together 
like so many maggots — their flabby flesh a dirty 
white, their faces prematurely aged and with a dia- 
bolical intelligence in their sharp eyes. The chil- 
dren are always old. The old have reached the ex- 
tremity of hideous decrepitude. One would say 
that these veins had never held healthy human 
blood.^^' 

Oh, dear ! Deary me ! interrupted Miss Han- 


166 


OTHER FOLK. 


nah, dropping her butter ladle. Did this old 
woman live there ? 

She didn^t make butter, 1^11 be bound/’ said 
Andrew. 

She did the queerest thing I ever heard of a 
woman doing/’ said Olive, speaking to Miss Han- 
nah as she would speak to a child. When her 
eyesight was failing and the terror of starvation was 
upon her, she learned something new to do. She 
had a sick cousin, a workman in the public garden, 
who had lost the use of his hand, but he still had 
his eyes. Some one told him that there were never 
enough ants’ eggs for the Zoological Gardens and 
for those that feed pheasants. So the eyes of the 
man and the hands of the woman went to work to 
raise ants’ eggs. The ants have teeth, but they do 
not gnaw like hunger, the old woman said. At 
first she was bitten, bitten always. She became as 
tanned as leather. She was like the skin of a dried 
apple, and she wore pantaloons and gauntlets of 
leather. It was almost a coat of mail, but the ants 
were always underneath. She said she was frantic 
until she was bitten everywhere, and then she 
could be poisoned no longer, gnaw as they would. 
The ants are very lively and love heat, so she 


THE THINGS OLIVE DID NOT SAY. 1S7 


keeps up a great heat and feeds them very high^ 
and they lay many eggs, which she gathers for the 
bird breeders. Eight and even ten sacks of ants 
are sent to her from Germany and other places ; 
she earns money enough and to save a little for her 
girls, whom she has sent away, so that, in her air 
and her work, they may not lose their pretty, fresh 
skins, and be bitten besides. And now she has 
something to eat more than bread.^^ 

Miss Hannah had forgotten her butter; with- 
out a word, but with a long sigh, she lifted her 
ladle and began her work in the sweet yellow 
mass. 

Miss Hannah, English butter-makers think 
they make better butter than ours,^^ said Leila, who 
took an absorbing interest in the work she found 
herself among. I learned the English rules for 
butter making to-day.’’ 

^^Do tell!” cried Hannah. Perhaps I can 
rule my butter by them. Miss Vanema says the 
Lord cares for the bread and butter in the world 
just as much as for the gold and silver, and that He 
put bread in His Lord’s prayer.” 

Olive had said that to her early that morning, 
when she went out to the cow-yard to see the milk- 


168 


OTHER FOLK. 


ing; it was very pitiful, this hunger this worker had 
for the Lord^s truth to help in her day^s work. 

There were ten/^ said Leila. I think He 
likes to have wise rules govern His bread and but- 
ter. Don’t let me miss any ; I was born to be a 
butter woman. 

^ First, rinse all the dairy utensils in cold 
water. 

^ Second, scald with hot water and rinse again 
with cold.’ ” 

That’s what I do,” said Hannah, forgetting her 
butter again. As if an Englishman had to tell 
me that ! ” 

^ Third, always use a thermometer,’ ” said 
Leila, laughing. 

That’s what Dianth says j but my cheek is my 
thermometer. I put the cream on my finger and 
touch my cheek.” 

Fourth, cream to be at temperature of fifty- 
six to fifty- eight degrees in summer, and sixty in 
winter.’ ” 

^‘Yes, that’ll do,” muttered the American but- 
ter-maker, for England — I want mine warmer.” 

‘ Fifth, ventilate churn sufficiently,’ ” said 
Leila. 


THE THINGS OLIVE DID NOT SAY. 169 


As if a clean woman had to be told that ! I 
don^t live in one of them Paris places ! objected 
Miss Hannah, with great indignation. 

^ Sixth/ continued Leila, after pausing to 
think, ^ churn at forty to forty-five revolutions per 
minute.^ ” 

That^s round and round, isn’t it % My butter 
is made with an up and down dasher.” 

^ Seventh, stop churning immediately the but- 
ter comes.’ ” 

Any fool knows that,” was the indignant re- 
joinder. 

In the laugh that greeted her words. Miss Han- 
nah went off with her butter bowl, and did not 
return for her chair or the remaining three butter 
rules. 

The spirit of Bunker Hill,” commented Andrew, 
^^will not accept English common sense. Leila, 
why didn’t you say they were American rules % ” 

That wouldn’t have been true,” said Mollie. 

Suppose somebody should tell you a lie, Mollie, 
what then % ” he inquired lightly. 

I would never, never, believe him again — if he 
meant to.” 

Didn’t your cousin ever tell you a lie ? ” 


170 


OTHER FOLK, 


Cousin Menzies ! No, he couldn^t.’^ 

It would be a wretch who could/’ said Andrew, 
seriously. I suppose many a liar would not lie if 
he could know the uncomfortable train of results 
that would follow.” 

And many a true, true thing would not be 
done if the doer could know the sorrow he would 
bring upon himself,” replied Menzies. 

That’s why we do not know — perhaps,” said 
Olive, one of the ways to help us do the true 
things is to keep the afterward sorrow from us.” 

Is that fair ? ” inquired Andrew. 

When we are not brave — and who is ? — and 
would do the true thing, isn’t it fair to be helped 
rather than hindered % There is no promise that 
sorrow shall not follow obedience.” 

She was speaking to the listener on the grass. 

^^Yes,” said Mollie, ^^and when it comes out all 
right, how glad you are you did it.” 

Are you ? ” asked Andrew. I am never glad 
when I have to suffer. I do not think that is all 
right.” 

Olive’s thoughts ran on 5 if she had been alone 
with somebody — with Leila, or Mollie, or perhaps 
with Allan Menzies — she might have spoken them. 


THE THINGS OLIVE DID NOT SAY, 171 


Isaac had. to marry Eebekah, even although he 
might have thought that day in his blind old age 
when she deceived him : would not have married 

her had I known what she was and what she would 
do.^^ Mary the Mother might have shrunk that day 
from the announcement made by the angel, had 
she known that she must stand at the foot of that 
cross. But Paul did not hold himself back when 
he knew that bonds and imprisonment awaited 
him in every city 5 or Peter, brave Peter, when he 
was told the death he must die. 

She was playing carelessly with the cover of the 
hook in her lap j from his position near her, Men- 
zies saw by the intent look that she was not 
thinking of the man who had spoken. The secret 
of her eyes was a hidden life that he had not 
found j would he, if he should search — if he might 
search ? He had the right now, with that letter of 
release in his pocket 5 all this last year Virginia 
Graham had loved some one else, ^^some one 
young she wrote, and she had suffered and had 
not dared tell him, hut now with the hope held out 
that she might grow stronger, and walk about and 
sit up, she must tell him, and she hoped he would 
not hate her for it, for she could not he happy with 


172 


OTHER FOLK. 


any one else. At first, she kept her improvement 
hack to surprise him, and then she dared not tell him, 
for fear he would come to Germany and claim her 
promise. Her father knew, he had found it out, 
and said she must write the truth. 

^^He never wanted me to marry you, dear Allan; 
it was all my own doing; I am glad he is pleased 
this time. Don^t he hard on me, for indeed I can- 
not help it. He is young and full of fun and loves 
me better than you did. You were so old and 
serious ! It is helping me get well ; papa says he 
would be willing for anything to happen to make 
me well.’’ 

In the night he had arisen to light his lamp and 
read the words again, and then he had fallen on his 
knees and thanked God as he had never thanked 
Him in his life. 

Would he dare tell her all his story — this girl 
who would not ride to Laurel Lane with him, who 
had not cared then to write to him, and who had 
not answered the one letter he wrote to her. 

(Olive never knew that her father had taken the 
letter from the postman, and, knowing by the post- 
mark and the handwriting that it was from that 
fellow that boarded with her in the country, had 


THE THINGS OLIVE DID NOT SAY. 173 


opened and read it and torn it in pieces in the 
street. The letter was simply a regret for not 
saying good-bye, and saying that he would never 
forget some of the talks that showed him how 
good and true a man should be to deserve a woman 
like her.) 

He was free to love her, the very freedom was 
so sweet that he asked nothing beside it for awhile j 
and if this happiness were for him — if God should 
give it — had she lost any thing by what the years 
had wrought in him ? He had lost nothing 5 a 
sweeter woman never drew breath ; the girl Olive 
Vanema had promised nothing half so rich and 
sweet as the woman Olive Vanema had become. 
Where had she been to learn this grace ? 

As he looked up at her, her eyes met his, she 
was not thinking of him, he saw ; how could she, 
when, as Diantha said, he was going to Germany ? 

But, in an instant, her eyes were on her book ; 
she was afraid of herself ; she was thinking that 
she would love to talk to him, and she could, to her 
heart’s full content. 


IX. 


YESTERDAY AND TO-DAY. 

" If hope grew on a bush. 

And joy grew on a tree, 

What a nosegay for the plucking 
There would be! 

But, oh, in windy autumn, 

When frail flowers wither, 

What should we do for hope and joy 
Fading together ? 

—Christina J. Rossetti. 

In her little upper chamber that evening Olive 
sat alone 5 in her lap was a book, half scrap, half 
journal, half note, half everything that she had 
saved from the pile of things collected and de- 
stroyed that last week at home after her father died 
and she was breaking up housekeeping.” Her 
furniture, her mother’s furniture, was stored in a 

garret chamber in Dr. Provost’s large house ; some 

174 


YES TEJADA Y AND TO-DA K. 


175 


few books and pictures she cared for she had put in 
the bottom of her trunk, and this soiled and dingy 
book was among them. The date on one of the blank 
pages was fifteen years ago; why, now she remem- 
bered she had bought it at the village store ; that 
one store in Dazey had been an art museum to 
her; coming out of school one afternoon, she wished 
for a blank book — Allan Menzies had quoted some- 
thing she wished to copy — and, very uncertain of 
getting anything to suit her, she had inquired for 
blank books at the store. How much she found to 
put in it ! Here was a recipe for making mucilage 
and under it one for orange cake that Miss Tunison 
gave her ; she thought her mother would like that 
cake ; and then a list of names of books Allan had 
written for her, but, alas, she had never had the 
money to purchase one of them. Would she care 
for them now ? It was a pleasure to look at the 
titles and see what he had read and cared to have 
her read : 

Science in Story, 

TJie Building of a Brain, 

Borderland of Insanity, 

The Law of Love, and Love as a Law, 

Lessons for Children about Themselves, 


176 


OTHER FOLK. 


The Childj Its Nature and BelationsJ^ 

What a delight to get them now and read them 
under the trees ? Should she — might she show him 
the list in his own handwriting, and ask him if they 
would be as good for her now ? W ould that be as 
good for her now as then ? 

On the next page was a poem she had found after- 
ward and copied; it was one night when her father 
lay in a heavy sleep on the lounge, and her mother, 
after a fretful evening, had fallen asleep; it was ten 
years after Allan Menzies had written the titles of 
the books. With a keen pleasure in the pain of it, 
she read the words: 

‘‘ ‘ Come take the flower —it is not dead, 

It stayed all night out in the dew.^ 

‘ I will not have it now/ he said, 

‘ I want it — yesterday, I do! ’ 

‘ It is as red, it is as sweet—’ 

With angry tears he turned away. 

Then flung it fiercely at his feet 
And said, ‘I want it — yesterday!’ 

“ As sullen and as quick of grief, 

Sometimes a lovelier flower than this 
1 crush forever, scent and leaf, 

Then scent and leaf forever miss. 


YESTERDA Y AND TO-DA Y. 


177 


" It keeps its blush, it keeps its breath, 

It keeps its form unchanged ; but I 

See in its beauty only death. 

Then drop it in the aust — and why? 

And why? Ah I Hand Divine, I know — 

Forgive my childish pain, I pray. 

To-day your flower is fair, but, oh, 

I only want it — yesterday.” 

It had kept its blush and breath, scent and leaf 
were there, all the night of these years it had been 
out in the dew — she loved Allan Menzies then and 
she loved him now — there was no reason in it, 
there had been no reason then — it was simply and 
terribly true. She did not know how she knew it ; 
she did not know at what instant it had come back, 
or whether it had always stayed — she did not want 
it only yesterday — she wanted it now. 

He was unchanged, or changed into better- 
ment j he would understand her without being told 
— and then she laid her head upon the table beside 
the time-worn pages of the book, and, with hands 
clasped tightly together in her lap, said only ; 

Father, I can^t help it. I will do my best to try. 
You did not give it to me yesterday, I am willing 
and glad to do anything else you tell me to — to- 
day, or to-morrow.^^ 


178 


OTHER FOLK, 


The tears dried in her eyes, there was nothing 
in her life to he sorry for, hut God^s will — and she 
loved that. She could love the hurt of it for the 
sake of the comfort of it. And then she read : 

Ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in 
God.’^ 

Dead ! With a life to live. What in her was . 
dead ? Not any love or longing for right and 
beautiful things ; only the dead things were dead, 
the things that could not live with Christ ; the 
things that died a natural death in His presence ; 
her will when it rebelled against God^s will, her love 
of things in themselves and because she desired 
them to be satisfied with them j no longer did she 
think that her life could consist in the abundance 
of the things she used to wish for — ^like any girl. 
She did not even think of these coveted things now. 
All she- desired was work to do and strength to do 
it, that made her happier than all the ‘‘ things any 
body could wish for in all the world. She had 
the money saved, she could have that tiny diamond, 
like a spark of fire, on her finger 5 she could save 
money for those books ; she could teach again and 
save the income from her uncle ^s estate to travel 
with in vacation — once she had been wild to travel 


YESTERDA Y AND TO-DA Y. 


179 


—why, she could have very many of those 
things she used to wish for and pray for ! She 
could have Allan Menzies to calk to every day — 
no, she could not, that would only he building an- 
other yesterday’’ for her heart to ache over in 
another to-morrow. And she did not wish for 
.this, or will it ; how could she, when God had 
given it, or allowed it to be given, to another 
woman ? 

If she could have all his time, all his thoughts, 
all his tenderness and strength by stretching out 
her hand to him as easily as she could stretch it 
out now — and she stretched it out and withdrew it 
quickly — she would not do it unless God would be 
glad. She could not desire this tenderness and 
strength unless it were God’s will and desire for 
her. 

And then came the softest and gladdest tears 
she had ever shedj for she knew now as she 
had never known before that her life and every 
desire in it was hidden, with Christ, in God. 
Nothing but this hiding could keep her so 
safe. 

Had there been any temptation ? She felt and 
understood the flash and thrill with which he had 


180 


OTHER FOLK. 


lifted his eyes to herj she knew what he was 
thinking ; how could she but know what she had 
seen before — that night he asked her to go with 
him to Laurel Lane ? And she was afraid to go, 
because of her father. 

Was it a temptation With that girl far away 
in Germany — who had not her own first right to him. 
— would he not come back to her now ? No ; it was 
not a temptation ! She would not stretch out her 
hand to him — she would not talk to him, or let him 
talk to her or read to her — she could not wish for 
what God had withheld from her and given to 
some one else. It was not in her to wish for it. 
She did love him again, but it was so sweet and in- 
nocent that she was glad the Lord knew about it 
better than she could tell Him. It was sweeter 
and less selfish than that other time. Then it was 
for her own sake, now it was for his, because he 
was so worth loving. A stout, bald old bachelor, 
with nothing about face or manner that a girl 
would find attractive j his kindly manner was al- 
most elderly 5 that way of stepping back had noth- 
ing of self-assertion, it was very humble j she 
thought he must have been hurt sometime, and so 
was very kind to others. The story of his fifteen 


YESTERDAY AND TO-DAY. 


181 


years might have been harder than her own (and 
hers did not seem at all hard to-night) j whatever 
it was, she was confident it had been good for him, 
and would be good for every one whose life touched 
his all along. 

This was worth learning — ^worth suffering a little 
to learn. And now she could thank God for every 
thing and go to sleep. Hope and joy were grow- 
ing close together, hid with Christ in this life she 
need take no thought about. 

In this abundance, what was an abundance of 
^Hhings’^? 

She knelt beside her bed a long time that night. 

Would it be wiser to be strong and stay, or to go 
away ? Would it be wiser for his sake ? She 
must not make it hard for him to go to Germany to 
that poor thing who was walking across her room 
for the first time in five years. This girl was very 
rich, with her he could satisfy all those luxurious 
tastes he used to laugh about, and she would love 
him into forgetting that he had ever had any 
younger years. No ; she did not want any thing 
yesterday but what she had had, nor to-morrow but 
what she would have, where she was, hid with 
Christ in God. It must be because she was so hidden 


182 


OTHER FOLK. 


that this temptation slipped past her ; He would not 
let a thought of such evil selfishness touch her with 
longing 5 it could not touch Christ, and it could not 
touch her, because she was with Him. 

She was too joyful to sleep. 


X. 


UNDERNEATH. 

“ If there waa an ant at the door of thy granary asking for 
help, it would not ruin thee to give him a grain of thy wheat; 
and thou art nothing but a tiny insect at the door of my All- 
sufficiency. I will help Spurgeon. 

What man without a Friend in Heaven 
Could bear his burden on the earth ? ” 

— Novalis. 

That evening^ in the hour when Olive knelt 
beside her bed, Allan Menzies was reading in his 
chamber 5 he threw himself upon his bed with a 
book in his hand and read until the lights were out 
and the house was still. In speaking of it after- 
ward he told it, as was his way, in few words ; as he 
read, his eyes ran over the pages, he did not seem 
to be absorbing what he read ; suddenly he became 
oppressed as with a burden, the burden of a convic- 
tion j he must believe in Christ the Son of God j he 

183 


184 


OTHER FOLK. 


must become a Christian. The conviction could not 
be reasoned with and put down, it could not be set 
aside j there it was heavier and heavier ; he must 
believe and repent f he must believe and repent 
and be forgiven. He did not think, it was being 
thought for him ; he did not feel it, it was being 
felt for him j it was in himself but not of himself. 
It came and stayed. 

The next morning he gave Leila her work to do 
on the piazza and told her he should be away until 
noon j if she preferred to wait until to-morrow morn- 
ing, he had no objection. 

I will wait,” she said promptly, there would 
be something I shouldn't imderstand, and then I 
couldn’t go on. I want to go after blue -flag with 
Miss Olive, beside.” 

Very well,” he answered, going down the steps. 

He went out into the road and turned toward 
Monroe. Diantha came through the hall, rubbing 
flour off her chin with her floury fingers ; she was 
moulding bread in the kitchen, but she had caught 
the sound of his voice, and something unusual in 
the tones struck her j there was the same unusual- 
ness at breakfast j it could not be that this girl 
knew the secret of it. 


UNDERNEA TH. 


185 


Cousin Menzies is in a mood this morning,” 
she remarked, giving her apron-string a firmer 
knot. 

Is he ? ” asked Leila, with disrespectful care- 
lessness, piling her papers together. 

He has as many moods as hairs in his head — ” 
and then Diantha laughed at the simile, as the 
vision of his bald forehead rose before her. 

With a laugh, Leila ran down the steps and off 
to find Miss Olive, to give her Mrs. Dfis latest.” 

She needn’t have flashed off,” muttered Dian- 
tha angrily j she was afraid of what I would say. 
I will give her a blast she will take heed to some- 
time 5 she knows he’s almost married. And yester- 
day she asked him if it wouldn’t be fun to go off on 
a day’s drive ! She needn’t think she’ll get my 
horses.” 

The blue-flag grew on one side of the brook, and 
on the other was a patch of calamus. Leila was 
not going after calamus to-day j that would make 
another expedition. 

A walk is nothing unless it is for something,” 
she said to Olive, as she slipped her hand through 
Olive’s arm. Don’t tell me that that is like life, 
and that I don’t know the for something in my own 


186 


OTHER FOLK. 


life, yet. What if I don^t ? Do I have to before it 
comes ? There^s something in Cousin Menzies’ life 
(wouldn^t Mrs. Di be angry if she heard my un- 
warrantable familiarity ?) that never grew there be- 
fore. His gray eyes had depths beyond depths at 
the breakfast table. Miss Olive, I believe I’d like 
to stay here a year. It’s the most interesting spot 
I ever dropped down into. I’ve thought so much 
about myself that I forgot there were other folks j and 
these two houses are full of them. I shouldn’t 
wonder if I were one of them myself. Papa wants 
me to have some salt water, and says I must go for 
two weeks, at least, and I hate to. It wouldn’t be 
so dreadful if you and Mollie and Cousin Menzies 
and Andrew would go with me ! CouldnH you go ? 
Don’t you need a breath of salt f You don’t need 
that or anything,” the girl rattled on. I never 
saw you so blooming in my life. It will take more 
than salt to make me bloom.” 

Could she go ? That would be an escape, and 
he might be gone before she returned. 

Aren’t your engaged with Mr. Menzies ? How 
nearly is your work finished I ” 

Oh, that would be endless, if we both wanted 
it. He wrote awhile himself yesterday morning. 


UNDERNEA TH, 


187 


I guess he’s had a shock and it has restored his fin- 
gers. Mrs. Di thinks he could do all his writing if 
he only thought so. She thinks it’s a scheme of 
mine. He wrote a long letter to Germany yester- 
day. Mrs. Di came out and asked him if he were 
putting the girl who was doing his writing into it 5 
and he said very seriously that his envelope was 
about my size, but I objected to being put into it, 
and she said she didn’t know I would object to 
anything. I wish I could fall in love with him, to 
tease her, but I shouldn’t know how to go to work. 
Should you ? ” 

Not if I had to go to work,” answered Olive, 
lightly. 

The step behind was gaining on them, and while 
Leila spoke Andrew was at her side. 

I know you want me and were too considerate 
to invite me ; I am aching for some blue-flag.” 

Is that all you are aching for % ” asked his 
cousin. Don’t you want to go to the sea with 
Miss Olive and me % ” 

I do, indeed ! ” he exclaimed. Nothing 
would make me so happy. Whose plan is 
it?” 

Papa’s,” said Leila discontentedly. 1 am 


188 


OTHER FOLK. 


well enough here. I will not go till August, any- 
way.^^ 

Oh, yes, you will — in July,’^ he returned. 

Olivers swift thinking had come to a decision. 
The very breath of the sea allured her, and the re- 
lief of being away anywhere from the gray eyes 
Leila talked about would be a rest — she was be- 
ginning to understand what they had been to her 
ever since that first morning they had flashed fun 
at her ; and she had a little money saved, enough 
for a week, perhaps, for nothing less than a grand 
hotel would satisfy these two people, but — it was a 
long hut and meant more than a week to that tired 
woman and little, pale girl Harriet Peters had 
written about ; this twenty-five dollars would pay 
their fare and give them board for three weeks. 
Miss Hannah could make a bed in the open garret, 
on the floor, if nothing better, and they could eat 
their oatmeal and drink their buttermilk out 
under the trees; she would certainly take them for 
three dollars each, and they could do their own 
washing — eighteen dollars — and leave seven for 
the fare and some additions to their wardrobe be- 
fore they came. How could she, for a week of 
salt air, take three weeks of the country from this 


UNDERNEA TH. 


189 


hard-working mother and the child with a cough 
and pain in her side. It was their money ; it was 
not her own. It had been given to her for them. 

Olive, you are too serious ! ’’’’ said Andrew. 

Your eyes say the seaside is too frivolous.^^ 

You do like the sand and the sea ! persuaded 
Leila, and you can afford it, I know. It doesn’t 
cost much to board here, and you are saving 
money.” 

Yes, I do love the sand and the sea — ^but not 
now. This rest and change is all I need.” 

All you needj^ repeated Andrew. Is your 
life, your pleasure, a question of need f Don’t you 
believe everything is given us richly to enjoy ? 
You will find those very words in your Bible.” 

So much is given me now to enjoy that I can- 
not enjoy it half, or half enough of it.” 

You are thinking about dress,” said Leila, de- 
termined to fathom her reasons, but you know I 
never dress at the seaside. Andrew would love to 
escort us about as we are this morning.” 

You couldn’t either of you be more becomingly 
or fittingly arrayed,” he answered. I shall be 
only too proud of you both.” 

Olive had fashioned her simple dress after one 


190 


OTHER FOLK. 


she had seen and admired; it was a flannel of 
navy blue, trimmed with white braid. LeiWs was 
a gray flannel ; she did not look pretty in it ; she 
did not look pretty in anything. 

It is not my dress/' said Olive. I most de- 
cidedly prefer to remain here.” 

Then it is somebody ! ” declared Leila. It 
must be that you can^t leave Mrs. Di.” 

If I were Mrs. Di^s husband,” said Andrew im- 
pressively, there is one nursery song I should cer- 
tainly quote to her a dozen times a day : ^ Hush, 
my dear.^ ” 

The blue-flag expedition filled all the morning ; 
in the afternoon Miss Hannah and Olive talked 
over the sleeping arrangements for the mother and 
little girl, arranged the bill of fare and the price of 
board, and then Olive wrote to Harriet Peters ask- 
ing her to send her two fresh air ” candidates the 
next Monday morning and to keep from them the 
name of their benefactor. They would not enjoy 
it if they knew I was watching them, they would 
think they must be grateful every fifteen minutes, 
and that would spoil it all for me as well. You 
can^t think — ^yes, you can — ^how glad I am to have 
this pleasure.” 


UNDERNEA TH. 


191 


She finished the letter about sundown, and made 
it an excuse for a walk to the mail. Since Allan 
came (it was so pleasant to think of his name as no 
one here seemed to do), he had gone to the mail 
every day and her walk had been in other direc- 
tions. Was it only this summer that she had 
walked through the woods with those three letters ? 
It seemed as far back in her history as that school 
summer at Dazey. Would she love to go back and 
teach again in that stone school-house ? The low, 
gray building with tall horse-chestnut trees behind 
it and playground in front, with the grassy bank 
at the end where she used to open her dinner pail 
and spread out her lunch with the girls — she had 
but to shut her eyes to see it. And Miss Tunison^s 
red house, with its gable end to the road and tiny 
kitchen and narrow back stairs, at the foot of which 
that welcoming breakfast bell used to sound — and 
the breakfasts and suppers with three — a rush of 
longing came over her to see the house again and 
the dear old woman who had petted her as her 
mother had never thought of doing. She must be 
over ninety now ; would she know her again ? 

A step was among the trees somewhere j she had 
never met any one in these woods ; there was a 


192 


OTHER FOLK. 


gang of Italian laborers at the station j one of them 
bad spoken rudely to Leila ; the step was coming 
near, quick, decided, she could not flee backward, 
could she step behind a tree ? 

A gray hat, a gray suit — she laughed aloud in 
nervous relief, and told Allan Menzies that she had 
been as frightened as a girl. 

You were going to the mail. I have the let- 
ters. Oh, you have something to mail. Shall I 
take it for you, or will you turn back with me, or 
wait for me f You should give me some reward.^^ 
I will go to the mail, do not go with me if you 
have anything else to do.^^ 

I haven^t anything else,^^ he said, smiling. I 
just came in the train.’^ 

“ Mrs. Di expected you at noon.^^ 

I was delayed.’^ 

They went on together ; it was but a little way, 
and in a few minutes they were again in the woods, 
walking slowly and talking of Dazey. He had a 
letter in his pocket from Miss Tunison ; it had 
been dictated to a young girl who was her nurse 
and housekeeper ; the old lady was ailing this sum- 
mer and wished to see him and talk over things. 

I saw her in the winter, 1 was there a week j 


UNDERNEA TH. 


193 


she has always had a peculiar affection for me j she 
named me Allan King, for a friend of hers who 
died before I was born. They were to be married, 
and he died the very month. That little red house 
and thirty acres belonged to him, and he gave it to 
her. She would never have anything changed 
about the house ; its red coat was renewed every 
five years, and when she had new window sashes 
put in, she insisted upon small panes ; she is a 
loyal old body.” 

Is she very ill ? ” 

She has been at the point of death twice and 
then in a few months about again 5 she has picked 
beans this summer, and IVe no doubt would be 
glad to bend her back picking wild strawberries for 
you.” 

How I would love to see her again ? ” cried 
Olive, involuntarily. 

Why should you not ? ” he asked in eager 
haste. She often asked me what had become of 
you.” 

I did not write after the first few times — I was 
ungrateful not to j I did not forget her.” 

Why didn’t you write then ? ” 

If he knew the reason ! 


194 


OTHER FOLK. 


I was busy ; I used to be anxious and worried 
in those days ; I bad not learned to take life as it 
was given to me.^^ 

^^Did you ever do anything with that little 
grammar ? 

That little grammar ! She had forgotten it. 

I was proud of that grammar/’ he said. 

It was your suggestion.” 

Was it ? It was your work. Do you remem*’ 
ber you came home one night and said one of the 
youngsters said her mother said she must study 
grammar, and you had no book to teach her and 
did not know how.” 

Yes, and you told me to make a grammar for 
her — to write my lessons and have a primary class 
in grammar. How I enjoyed it ! It was the event 
of the day. The older girls always listened. I 
did write a grammar and had children to try it on.” 

She did not care to tell him the rest of it. 

And you didn’t do anything with it % That 
was a pity. Why did you not ? ” 

I did,” she said. I did as you advised. I 
sent it to a publisher, and he replied that he would 
publish it if I would promise to follow it within a 
year with a junior.” 


UNDERNEATH. 


195 


And you didriJt f 

I couldn’t. I was busy nigbt and day.” 

Her eyes filled for an instant. 

You should have taken time; it was worth your 
time. Such an offer as that — and a girl like you ! ” 

That was three years afterward — after I had 
tried it on another class and improved it. I did 
want to do it ! It is silly to tell you, hut I cried 
hours and hours one night ; I could not give it up . 
I might have taken nights, but I had to be in night- 
school then ) my father said it would not bring in 
enough money 5 we had to have moneys you know : 
he could not find a situation, and poor mother was 
so ill ; she was like — she did not take a step for 
years before she died.” 

He stifled his expression of impatience and asked 
instead how long since her mother died. 

They died the same yearj it is not three years; 
father died first, he was never strong.” 

And you always were strong, I suppose.” 

Oh, yes ; until after they died ; I had a long 
illness — ^now I am having a long rest.” 

Are you thinking of teaching again ? ” 

I am thinking of a dozen things ; I might write 
my grammars,” she said, with a happy laugh, hut 


19S 


OTHER FOLK. 


I am SO out of practice and that publisher may have 
had a better one since. I would like to teach in 
Dazey again. I would like, more than like, to go 
among the poor women of New York and talk to 
them and read the Bible to them. I know a lady 
who has been in the work ten years j she is enthu- 
siastic over it j she went first to a training school j 
some society supported her with a dollar a day.” 

And she lived on that !” 

She certainly did, and paid her car fare when 
the distances were too long for her j the visits she 
made in a day were incredible, unless you knew her 
— I couldn^t do it. I have three hundred a year 
from my uncle ; he began to help us when father 
died — he and father, poor father, never could agree 
— and I could live on that, and some other woman 
could have the other dollar a day j and there would 
be another worker in the field.” 

Some woman can do that that cannot write your 
grammars, or teach in Dazey, or go and live with 
my aunt and comfort her old age — ” 

She has not asked me.” 

Give her the opportunity.” 

And there is Harriet Peters,” she exclaimed. 

She had almost forgotten Harriet Peters. 


UNDERNEATH. 


197 


Before she knew it, she was talking to her 
hearths content, and had told him all about the plan 
of the house-mother. 

Anything else ? he asked, in laughing dis- 
content. 

These calls in different directions are per- 
plexing enough ; please don’t suggest another.’^ 

I would like to,^^ he returned, in a suggestive 
tone that suggested nothing to her. 

Don^t. I must have one of these. I think I 
shall go to New York. I am growing stronger 
every day.’^ 

He drew a paper from his breast pocket and 
unfolded it. 

bought it on the train. I thought the girls 
might find something in it, and I lighted upon 
something for you. Stand still, please, and I will 
read a paragraph.’’ 

She stood still and he leaned against a tree 5 he 
did not notice it, but it was the very spot where he 
had stood and read Virginia Graham’s letter. 

It is in an article on Distinguished Women. In 
speaking of the work done by women in the last 
two decades, it states that before this time there 
seemed to be nothing in particular for middle-aged 


198 


OTHER FOLK. 


women. ^ A woman’s life seemed extinguished at 
twenty -five.’ That is the unmarried woman prob- 
ably ; wives and mothers certainly have a career. 
^ But in these days a woman must be middle-aged 
before she can really begin to accomplish anything.’ 
(Grammars, for instance.) ^ This is true as it 
never was before. Our leading women, philoso- 
phers, artists, professional and society women are 
middle-aged, while girls are kept comparatively in 
the background until they are twenty-five or 
thirty.’ ” 

That will be encouraging to Leila,” she replied, 
as he re-folded the paper. 

Then I will give it to her. She is bright 
enough to belong to SorosisP 

“ She wishes she could. She will tunnel under 
somewhere and come out into a sphere.” 

When they appeared at the gate Mollie was in 
the lane ringing the new, large, supper bell j Di- 
antha said if she had to call her table from every 
point of the compass, she must have a noise loud 
enough to make them hear. 

They were all at the table when Menzies pre- 
sented himself : Diantha greeted him with a 
shower of remonstrances. 


UNDERNEA TH. 


199 


Now, Menzies, when I had chicken-pie for 
you and you promised to be back for dinner! 
You never broke your word before ! Where have 
you been all day, pray ? Did Miss Vanema have 
to go in search of you? Was she in the secret? 
It is a wonder that Miss Leila was not on the ram- 
page, too.^^ 

She would have been, had she known that I had 
something for her,’^ he answered, going around 
the table and stopping at the back of Leila’s 
chair. 

^^Miss Lelia, you may care for this paper. I 
never saw a copy before ; there appears to be 
something in it.” 

Thank you,” said Leila, demurely, the twinkle 
in her eyes kept on her plate. 

Oh, may I see ? ” cried MoUie, bending over 
Leila. 

^^ No,” replied her mother, severely, ^^it is for Miss 
Leila. David, we are ready for the blessing.” 

Leila’s tinkling laugh could not be suppressed. 

Oh, Mrs. Di,” she cried apologetically, I was 
struck with the fact that you were ready for the 
blessing.” 

It wouldn’t be bad for you if you were,” said 


200 


OTHER FOLK. 


Diantha, but the tone was not in the least ill- 
humored. 

Menzies, who have you seen to-day % Di- 
antha inquired before the Amen’^ had quite left 
her husband’s lips. Her husband’s voice in prayer 
was the only interruption in her stream of words 
for which Diantha had any respect. 

All sorts and conditions of men j I have been 
in two great cities.” 

Then you have been home f ” 

I saw my father for a few moments ; the girls 
were away for the day.” 

No one else ? ” 

I spent two good hours with Dr. Wayne.” 

Oh, your minister ! I didn’t know you ever 
spent good hours with him.” 

That is not the only fact in my life with 
which you are unacquainted, my good cousin.” 

Then you had business with him ? ” she pressed. 

He may have had business with me,” he 
answered dryly. 

Did he write to you ? ” 

No.” 

Wasn’t it sudden — ^your gping ? ” 

I did not think of it till last night.” 


UNDERNEATH, 


201 


I never saw such folks 5 I never know what 
any of you will do next j the chicken-pie is all gone 
and I never made a better. The crust was exactly 
right and the gravy delicious. WasnT it, Lucy 
Ann I I hope Miss Leila will not keep your goings 
and doings so close next time ! I would have had 
the chickens to-morrow if she had told me you were 
going to New York.’^ 

That was cruel in you, Miss Leila,” rebuked 
Menzies. 

Girls are cruel — some girls ! ” Diantha went 
on in an out-of-breath tone. I knew a girl once 
that was. She was engaged to the finest young 
fellow, and he went away to be gone some months, 
and he asked his father to be kind to her and 
fatherly and attentive while he was gone — she had 
no brother to escort her anywhere — and sure enough 
he was kind to her, and, flighty thing, she wheedled 
him into being engaged to her before poor Tom 
got back! And that winter they were married, 
and Tom had to bear it as best he could ! ” 

What a shame ! ” exclaimed Leila. Mrs. Di, 
that isnT true ! ” 

As true as I sit here,” said Diantha, in solemn 
asseveration. 


202 


OTHER FOLK, 


Then I hate true stories.^^ 

Don^t be a true story yourself then.” 

Pm afraid I don’t know how to be fiction ; and 
I don’t know any old man who has a son in love 
with me.” 

MoUie laughed and dropped a tiny hot biscuit 
from the piled-up plate she was passing to Andrew 
Croft. 

You can adapt my story then,” said Diantha, 
in high displeasure 5 there are none so blind as 
them that won’t see.” 

should greatly prefer the son — anyway,” said 
Leila, composedly, taking a couple of biscuits from 
Mollie’s plate. I don’t like gray heads, and bald 
ones are worse.” 

Some folks do,” said Diantha, spilling the tea 
she was pouring. Miss Graham is young and 
rich and beautiful, isn’t she, Menzies 

She certainly was — at last accounts,” he 
replied, unmoved. Miss Leila, you suggested a 
drive. ” 

Oh, that is all planned ! Andrew ordered the 
horses from Monroe this afternoon, and we are all 
going. Mrs. Di, you can spare Mollie, can’t 
you 1 ” 


UNDERNEATH. 


203 


We must have Mollie/^ said Andrew. I will 
take her imder my fatherly supervision.^’ 

And Miss Hannah is going,” continued Leila, 
delightedly, and we will take lunch, if you will 
be so kind, Mrs. Di ; let me see — Mr. Menzies and 
I, and Andrew and Miss Hannah — ” 

Andrew and Miss Mollie,” corrected Andrew. 
And Miss Hannah and Miss Olive, then,” 
amended Leila, six of us, won’t it be a picnic ? ” 
Leila ! that’s slang,” said Menzies. 

I was very literal,” replied Leila. I shall be 
content with nothing less than thirty miles.” 

And thirty lunches,” laughed Diantha. Do 
you think I can get up a lunch in half an hour ? ” 
I know your resources ; I am not afraid of 
lunches ; we must start early. For what time did 
you order the horses, Andrew ? ” 

Half-past eight.” 

‘^What on earth is Hannah going for ?” asked 
Hannah’s sister. 

Miss Olive asked her,” answered Leila, with 
cheerful promptness. She and Andrew and I 
each have the privilege of asking somebody.” 

Why Hannah ? ” asked Diantha. Why not 
Mary Jane, or Sarah Lib, or Maria, or Lucy Ann f ’ 


204 


OTHER FOLK. 


And why Mary Jane ? ” inquired Leila, with 
the utmost seriousness. And why picnic % 

This is frivolous,’’ reproved Diantha. I had 
something very important on my mind, and I 
almost forgot it. This afternoon I promised Eliza 
Simmons that I would lay a certain matter before 
my supper table, and send her the result to-morrow 
morning. She is a most reliable woman, I’ve 
known her for years — ” 

How many ? ” interrupted Leila. 

Long enough to know that she is to be trusted, 
and with some folks that takes time. Miss Leila ! 
There was a fire two months ago in Monroe and 
Widow Erskine’s house was burnt down — it was 
insured, but the insurance had run out and her 
thriftless son put off having it attended to, and now 
her little all is burnt to the ground, and she is 
dressmaking with her two younger children in 
three rooms ; this son is a shame to his mother, and 
she is supporting herself and the others by making 
dresses 5 she is a first-class dressmaker ; she made 
Mollie a navy blue cloth last winter that fits like a 
glove j and when the minister’s daughter was 
married she made all her dresses — and so Mrs. 
Simmons is around with a subscription paper to 


UNDERNEATH. 


205 


help her put up her house again j her husband was 
an elder in the church, and the church people 
have all put down their names ; one elder — he^s rich, 
though, and hasn’t got a child in the world — put 
down his name for one hundred dollars *, she’s got 
seven hundred, and a thousand will do it. She’s got 
a nice garden and a yard in front, with a small 
rockery with nasturtiums blooming in it, and she 
wdll always keep it pretty 5 so you needn’t be 
ashamed of your money going in such a woman’s 
keeping. Ellen’s father — ^Ellen Erskine’s father — 
used to work for pa ; they are a deserving family 
all the way through. I told her I would give a 
new five-doUar bill — and here it is ! MoUie, get a 
china plate, child, and pass it around.” 

^^Yes, Mollie,” encouraged Andrew, we’ll stay 
home to-morrow and put the money in the plate. 
The horse-hire would drive a nail in that thousand 
dollar house.” 

But I don’t want you to stay home,” said Ellen 
Erskine’s friend. Can’t you squeeze out a little 
something without that ? ” 

Yes,” said Andrew, leaning back in his chair 
and putting his hand into his pocket, with the motion 
of squeezing it j bring that china plate, Mollie.” 


206 


OTHER FOLK, 


I knew you would all do something ! ex- 
claimed Diantha, gratified. No, David, you 
needn’t put your hand in your pocket ; this five 
dollars is for both of us and Mollie and Lucy 
Ann.” 

For me ? ” asked Hiram, who rarely spoke at 
the table, depositing his silver dollar on Mr. Croft’s 
twenty-dollar bill. 

Leila said her pocket-book was up-stairs but she 
would not forget ; Menzies gave a bill a twist and 
tossed it to Mollie j Olive colored and spoke with 
embarrassment : I am very sorry I have nothing 

to give *, I would love to — if I had it.” 

^^The widow’s mite,” suggested Diantha, with 
virtuous severity. 

That was all her living,” said Olive, and I 
cannot give even that.” 

Mine is half for you ! ” suggested Leila, in a tone 
that would have brought a laugh had anybody 
dared. I will give ten.” 

David’s hand had wandered toward his vest 
pocket, but a look from his wife brought it hastily 
back to his bread and butter. 

I’ve got some news,” annoimced Lucy Ann, the 
plump widowed sister. Hannah is going to have 


UNDERISTEATH, 


207 


two boarders. Sbe told me just before supper 
when she ran over to borrow the baking soda ! 

What does she want boarders for % ’’ snapped 
Diantha. Where will she put them to sleep ? 

They are the kind that can sleep in the garret, 
she^s got an old bedstead, and they will spend all 
their time out of doors ; the woman is a washer- 
woman j she lost her consumptive husband in 
March, and the little girl is sick, like him.” 

What does she want such folks for f ” grum- 
bled Diantha. I wouldn^t let her do it, if I 
knew ! Is it too late to stop them now ? ” 

I think it is,” replied Olive, the flush in her 
forehead contradicting the gentleness of her tone. 

They are Christian people, Americans — and, when 
the father was in average health, were very com- 
fortable 5 she is a member of the church my friend 
Miss Peters attends, and, with watching for months 
with her husband and washing beside to support 
the little family, is quite worn out. They ask very 
little attention; fruit, eggs, buttermilk and oat- 
meal, with a place to sleep and all outdoors to 
breathe will be luxury itself.” 

How can they pay their board, then ? ” asked 
Diantha. Will my folks be sure of that ? ” 


208 


OTHER FOLK. 


A friend of Miss Peters is interested in them j 
Miss Hannah will lose nothing.^^ 

ilfie isn^t afraid j she’s glad/’ interposed Lucy 
Ann, and the little girl’s sickness isn’t catching.” 

Well, I wish she had spoken to me,” insisted 
Diantha. I didn’t know that my boarders would 
care to be associated with a washerwoman.” 

Perhaps she will wash for you, Dianth,” said 
Lucy Ann. That will keep her from prowling 
about.” 

No,” answered Olive, she is coming for per- 
fect rest. She is too much of a lady to intrude. 
You will not be in any way troubled.” 

It is something to have a lady for a washer- 
woman,” said Diantha tartly. I wonder how 
much this friend is willing to pay.” 

Three dollars,” replied Lucy Ann, who was 
pent up at meal-times and glad to have a vent. 

Hannah thought that was enough.” 

For hotlfi f ” asked Diantha, in a voice rising to 
a scream. 

Why, no ! Land’s sake ! Six for the two.” 

^^We might build her a house, too,” suggested 
Leila innocently. ^^Mollie, where’s your china 
plate? ” 


UNDERNEA TH. 


209 


Hiram arose and set his chair back against the 
wall 5 he whistled as he passed through the 
kitchen. 

^^What a handsome fellow that man of yours isT 
said Andrew to David. It^s a shame for him to 
work all day like an ox.^^ 

He doesn^t/^ Mollie said, quickly. ^Hie works 
like a man with brains ! He has done every ex- 
ample in the arithmetic j next winter we are going 
through the algebra.’^ 

A kitten going through the algebra ! cried 
Andrew, catching at the red ribbons that floated at 
Mollie’s side. Are you his teacher ? 

No j he is mine,’^ said Mollie, with a touch of 
pride that would have given the hired man 
strength for a week^s plowing. 

As Olive stepped out into the twilight Men- 
zies emerged from somewhere and came to her 
side. 

It is a perfect night for a stroll, he said, 
in a voice that evidently needed to be controlled. 

Will you go up the road with me ? 

No,^^ she answered, with a quick, troubled 
flush, 1 — I have some letters to write.’’ 

Will not to-morrow do \ ” he insisted. 


210 


OTHER FOLK, 


Her lamp was not lighted early that night ; she 
began a letter, and then crumpled the sheet in her 
hand ; the laughing voices in the lane came up to 
her, Hiram was with the others 5 after awhile she 
saw Menzies turn back and enter the house, the 
four that were left strolled down toward the brook. 
They were singing hymns when they returned an 
hour later in the starlight. Miss Hannah came up 
to Olive’s room to talk about her boarders that 
were coming and to say again and again that she 
was so glad one tired woman and one sick little 
girl could have a good time. 

Miss Vanema, I thought of something while I 
was milking to-night,” she said in her tone that 
was a mixture of simplicity and shrewdness. If 
you and me can’t go out into the big, dreadful 
world where folks has such hard times, we can be 
real kind to these two ! And perhaps that’s just as 
well.” 

It is better for them to bring them here ; I be- 
lieve I would rather do that, if I could. I hope 
you will have some poor people every summer. 
Miss Hannah.” 

If folks will pay their board,” she said, with 


UN D ERNE A TH. 


211 


a laugh, I certainly will, Dianth or no Dianth ! 
You would like to have a house in the country and 
give green grass and fresh air to folks, now, 
wouldn^t you ? 

Yes, I would ; I would put them all out to 
pasture/^ 

And talk to them about things in the Bible — 
Olive was thinking. This was another thing to 
do. But she had no pasture. 

This giving was only three weeks j she would not 
be satisfied imless she had the pasture to give 
all the season through. The summer would be 
over before she could save another twenty-five 
dollars. 

That story about Peter and the fishing was 
good ; I can^t seem to find them out like that. Do 
you suppose there^s another one ? 

Shall I look?’^ asked Olive. The Bible is a 
storehouse.^’ 

wish you would! IVe brought my work 
again, as you told me to 1 ” 




XL 


ANOTHER ONE. 

But hearing oftentimes, 

The still, sad music of humanity.” 

** But hushed he every thought that springs 
From out the bitterness of things.” 

— Wordsworth. 

Something seems to have gone out of me this 

summer/^ Hannah began again in her pathetic 

voice. I don^t mean to be imthankful-— the Lord 

knows I am thankful for my home ever since you 

read about that dreadful hole in Paris and the old 

woman all tanned up and the ants biting her — but 

my soul gets as empty sometimes as my body does 

when I^m hungry for my dinner. I can take a 

bite and comfort myself before dinner-time, but 

when something else inside of me is empty and it’s 

dinner-time don’t come, I don’t know what to do. 

Sometimes I cry ! ” she said in a tone of childish 
•212 



ANOTHER ONE. 


213 


confidence. But no one knows, it’s either in the 
cow-jard or the spring-house. There’s nobody 
iving with me, somehow.” 

How well Olive understood ! 

I know about that. I have cried that kind of 
tears,” she comforted, lighting her lamp.' I wasn’ 
happy until I found that I might live with One 
who loved me.” 

But you ain’t married ! ” 

No. I do not ever expect to be, any more 
than you do. It is something like the happiest 
marriage, but a great deal happier. Even in the 
happiest marriage there must be some disappoint- 
ing days, but there is no disappointment in this j it 
grows happier all the time.” 

There ! I knew you had something to make 
you happy. I told them so. And I said you wasn’t 
rich either, and had had to work as hard as the 
rest of us and go without things. You show it.” 

Those were the sweetest words, Olive thought, 
that human lips had ever spoken of her — You 
show — the sweetest ever spoken to her by 
human lips. 

If she showed it, how true it must be I 

You want some one to live your life with you j 


214 


OTHER FOLK. 


to walk by your side every hour j to help you in 
your work and show you the best way to do it j to 
show you how to grow into a sweet; lovely, wise 
woman.’’ 

Nobody could show me how to be that. It 
isn’t in me.” 

Yes, it is. The beginning is. And if you are 
every hour with Him I mean, you can’t help grow- 
ing sweet and lovely and wise. We grow lihe people 
we are with. You five sisters puzzle me and 
amuse me and surprise me, you are so alike. 
What I see in you one day, I am sure to see in one 
of the others before the next day is over. Even in 
Mollie I catch a little bit of you ; a sweet little bit, 
let me tell you. You grow alike. If you see any 
sweet thing in me it is because I am growing like 
the One I am with. Every day I think thoughts I 
never speak ; they are hidden from you even, who 
see me so many times a day j I do not put all of 
them even in ray prayers — my life is so hidden.” 

That’s what Dianth says, nobody knows you.” 

Your life is just as hidden, nobody knows you / 
nobody sees you cry, nobody hears your prayers ; 
your life is hidden with Him who sees you cry, who 
hears your prayers, and w\io feels how empty your 


ANOTHER ONE, 


215 


heart is, and how your inside self is hungry to be 
fed. You are hidden with Christ, if you love Him 
and obey Him.” 

I try to.” 

The pale, large eyes were overflowing j tears 
were dropping, but she did not notice them. 

Then how can you be alone? When Peter was 
telling Jesus about the tax. He was with him, as 
near as you are to me *, He saw his face and his 
hands, and heard every word he said. When 
Jesus was in PetePs house they were hidden to- 
gether. A man standing on the outside could not 
know who was in the house unless Peter looked out 
or Christ looked out j then he would see them both 
and know they were hidden together. When Peter 
went out about the Lord^s work, and was so brave 
and strong and faithful, teaching God^s will and 
healing the sick, people knew he had been with 
Jesus and said so. They saw that he had the spirit 
of Christ. Our life — your life, as well as mine — is 
hid with Christ where Christ is. You know where 
Christ is. He is in God. So we are in God, with 
Christ. We are not alone in God, just by our- 
selves ; we couldn’t be— we couldn’t be in God at 
all unless we were with Christ.” 


216 


OTHER FOLK. 


I am afraid Fm not with Him much j not as 
much as you are. I^d like to be all the time. I^d 
like to be as near as Peter was and tell Him things 
and grow like Him^ as Peter did. Do you think I 
ever will ? 

Dear Miss Hannah/’ Olive’s own eyes were 
full, I know you will. You have begun. Christ 
never lets any body go.” 

But I’m so contrary, and things are so con- 
trary. I used to think before you came that every- 
body had things but me. I thought no one ever 
lived who was left behind as I am. The girls have 
always picked at me and made me do their way. 
They always stepped into things somehow and got 
them, and I was left out. I suppose somebody has 
to be left out ; but I don’t like to be that somebody, 
I want my turn and I ain’t ever had it. But if all 
that’s true, I don’t much care j I shan’t be so lone- 
some now.” 

Now I have found the very thing for you ! 
The very thing that has comforted me. I felt left 
out once about something j I wanted it very much, 
but I couldn’t have it.” 

^^Did somebody else get it ? ” 

Yes 5 somebody else has it to-night.” 


ANOTHER ONE. 


217 


Don^t you want it now.^^ 

Oh, no, not for a minute. I can% because 
God doesn^t want me to. He gave it to somebody 
else. Everything is His, in the first place 5 every- 
thing you want He holds in His full handj He 
doesn^t give things to some one else because He 
loves them better, but He keeps things from you 
because He loves you and has something better. 
Now I will tell you a story. There was once a 
man who wanted something j thirty-eight years he 
had had an infirmity — you haven’t wanted any- 
thing as long as that yet, have you? ’’ 

No ; I’ve only felt so since I began to grow up. 
I was as happy as the girls were when I was a 
little thing.” 

This man must have grown up with his in- 
firmity ; he knew of only one way to get rid of it ; 
there was a pool of water near where he lived, and 
people told him that sometimes an angel came 
down into the water and touched it and gave it 
healing properties, so that the first one who stepped 
in after the angel had touched it was made well, no 
matter what the disease was ; and everybody be- 
lieved it so sincerely that porches were built about 
the banks, and they were filled with sick people. 


218 


OTHER FOLK. 


blind, lame, palsied, all kinds of sickness — and 
every one of them hoped some day to be first. 
This man had hoped it a long time, and one day 
he was lying there — I suppose some one had 
brought him and left him to do the rest of it as well 
as he could — and Jesus came by that way. He 
knew he was there, and how long he had waited. 
He asked the sick man if he wanted to be made 
well, and he answered that he had no man to help 
him down into the water, that some one else always 
stepped down first and got it. Suppose the day 
before he had stepped down first and been healed, 
he would not have been there this day 5 when Jesus 
came that way he would have missed seeing Him.^^ 

But he would have been well, and that was 
what he wanted,’^ was the quick answer. 

But it was not what Jesus wanted. He wanted 
him to wait till He came j until He came to speak 
to him and give him that very thing. Would you 
rather step down first or wait till Jesus comes ? 

If all the man cared for was to get well, I sup- 
pose he would rather have been well years before,^^ 
reasoned Hannah. 

He was sick before Jesus was born — he 
had to wait till Jesus grew up and came to find 


ANOTHER ONE, 


219 


him. But before He came down to the earth He 
knew this man was on the earth, a sufferer, and He 
did not hurry one step. Every day He permitted 
some one else to step down into the pool. But He 
did not once forget this manj he knew he was com- 
ing to heal him. Suppose you were lying there 
sick, would you rather step down or have Jesus 
come to you ? 

Oh/^ cried Miss Hannah, clasping her hands, 
would rather wait all my life to have Him come. 
I would rather see Him than step down and get all 
the kingdoms in the world.^^ 

Then you do not want to be first in your own 
way % 

^^No 5 I don^t want to do my own stepping down. 
I never was one to scramble and push for myself. 
Dianth says I have no knack at doing for myself j 
somehow there’s so much to be done for other 
folks,” she complained in her tired voice. 

Then do cheerily for other folks and wait till 
Jesus comes by. You may be sure He wiU stop and 
ask what you are waiting for. This man got what 
he wanted ; his healing. He had been waiting for 
an angel’s touch, and now he had the presence and 
voice of the Lord. What he wanted wasn’t half so 


220 


OTHER FOLK, 


good as wliat the Lord came to bring him. If you 
had had what the others have, you might not have 
been so hungry to be with the Lord. You might 
have cared for the things more than for him.’^ 

I^m afraid I would/’ she said thoroughly con- 
vinced. 

^^Now, after you see Him and live with Him you 
will be so happy you will not care. All you will 
care for is to keep close to Him and know what He 
wants you to do and to do it. And then every- 
thing He gives you, and He will give you a great 
many things, — will be sweeter than any thing He 
ever gave you before. I never was so happy as I 
am now. Every time He gives me work for Him 
it makes me joyful enough to sing.” 

And you do all alone here by yourself j I hear 
you.’’ 

Some of my work is this lovely talk with you 
and helping you find things about Him.” 

I hope some of your work will be to cheer that 
tired, hard-working woman and make her stay 
here something to be remembered all her life.” 

I’ll try,” promised Hannah, in a grateful voice. 

To Olive’s surprise, the undemonstrative woman 
arose and kissed her, then hurried away as if she 
were ashamed of herself. 


XII. 


WHEN IT RAINED. 

So oft the doing of God’s will 
Our foolish wills undoeth ! 

And yet what idle dream breaks ill 
Which morning light subdueth ? 

And who would murmur and misdoubt 
When God’s great sunrise finds him out ? ’’ 

—Mrs. Browning. 

♦ 

For the rain, it raineth every day,” quoted 
Andrew at the breakfast table the next morning. 

I knew it would rain last night,” said Diantha, 
bustling in with the coffee-pot, there was every 
sign of it. Yesterday was too beautiful to last.” 

Well, we can bear it, if every body else can,” 
said Andrew comfortably. I told that man not to 
come with the horses if it rained. Little Miss Mol- 
lie here looks very sunshiny about it.” 

Mollie laughed and Hiram^s strong lips twitched ; 

221 


222 


OTHER FOLK. 


he did not lift his eyes ; last night Mollie had said 
to him : It’s too provoking, Hi, for us to go and 

have fun and for you to be plowing corn all day ; I 
hope it will rain.” 

My mind is relieved of that lunch. Miss Leila. 
I can’t fill orders in a second, and I wanted you to 
have enough and of the best. Now you may stay 
indoors and eat me out of house and home.” 

Mrs. Di ! ” cried Leila, in comical despair, 
quoting Shakespeare! That the latest! You 
told me yesterday you had never read a line of 
Shakespeare in your life and never would.” 

Which is the Shakespeare ? asked Diantha, 
innocently. 

That is what I would like to know,” said 
Menzies. 

^ He hath eaten me out of house and home,’ ” 
quoted Leila, triumphantly. Don’t any of you 
know your Shakespeare better than that % ” 

^^We know better Shakespeare than that,” re- 
turned Menzies. 

What a day it will be to read aloud ! ” cried 
Leila. 

And to talk,” exclaimed Andrew, who loved 
talking more than reading. 


WHEN ir RAINED. 


223 


And to write/^ added Menzies, with a laughing 
look at his amanuensis. 

No, sir ; I will not write one word for you to- 
day. I am disappointed, and everybody has got to 
make the day pleasant for me.^^ 

The day began its pleasantness with its first after- 
breakfast hour up- stairs in Leila^s chamber ; under 
her waterproof and umbrella Olive had brought her 
small work-basket and a roll of gingham to make 
into two long aprons for Miss Hannah ; she said 
she would rather have them two aprons cut and 
made than ride to Halifax.^^ Mollie came up-stairs 
with her painting materials, her mother had giving 
her the day for a picnic at home ; Leila found 
several articles in her dainty wardrobe that needed 
timely stitches, and altogether the three congratu- 
lated themselves upon having the best time in the 
world alone together. 

The door into the hall was left open 5 in the 
hall under the window a small lounge that would fit 
in nowhere else had been placed this summer and 
Menzies had discovered it and taken his books 
there. As she came up, Olive stopped at the win- 
dow to look over the fields in the rain, and then 
her fingers having an instinct for books, she took 


224 


OTHER FOLK. 


up one of the books scattered over the lounge and 
opened it. It was one of the books upon that list 
he had written for her 5 she dropped it, feeling that 
she had no right to meddle with anything that 
belonged to that time 5 the next one she took up, 
Socialism and Christianity^ was too tempting to 
leave ; she kept it in her hand while the girls 
talked j the roll of brown and white gingham was 
in her lap. 

Mr. Menzies,” called Leila, hearing his step in 
the lower hall, ‘‘ come up, please. Miss Olive has 
one of your books and can^t put it down to do her 
sewing. Come and take it away or read it to us, 
please. I can’t have her charity hindered in this 
way.” 

You saucy girl ! ” rebuked Olive. 

Nevertheless, the book was taken from her and a 
chapter read aloud while the sewing and painting 
went intermittingly on ; he asked Leila to look 
through the book and choose the chapter she pre- 
ferred j she chose The Eights of Labor.” 

MoUie painted contentedly, losing a whole par- 
agraph now and then, not caring to listen to much 
of it j at last something arrested her and she 
listened : 


JV/fEN- IT RAIISrED, 


225 


( Agriculture is not the royal path to wealth 
and leisure. If the farmer is the most independent 
of men, he is also the hardest driven by his work. 
He must grunt and plow and hoe imtil every joint 
in his body is stiff ; he must fight the weeds in the 
ground, and weavil, cankerworm, and potato-bug 
above ground, the frost that kills his apple blos- 
soms, the crows that dig up the newly planted com, 
the hail that cuts his ripening grain. Horace 
Greeley has been quoted as saying that every tur- 
nip in his garden cost him a dollar. 

^ Nature is the hardest of masters j you must 
wring out of her hands all she gives you.^ 

Then the painting went on again and Mollie 
thought and did not listen ; Hiram had told all this 
to her many a time j now she had found it in a 
book ; a book that was written by Leila’s minister; 
and Leila had heard the lectures before they were 
put into a book. 

It was a long chapter ; the others seemed to care 
for every word of it ; she finished the blackberry blos- 
som and put in the leaves before Menzies threw the 
book down. Hiram asked her to paint the blossom 
for him : she was afraid her mother would not be 
pleased if she knew she were taking all this time 


226 


OTHER FOLK. 


for him. She had told her to paint somethimg Mr. 
Croft would like ; but how did she know — and what 
did she care what Mr. Croft would like? 

Cousin Menzies, may Hiram have that book ? 
He reads the deepest books! He studies like a 
school-teacher.’’ 

Why doesn’t he become one ? ” inquired Olive, 
thinking of the school-house at Dazey, and then 
he could have so much more time for study and fit 
himself for what he likes best.” 

I don’t believe he ever thought of that,” said 
Mollie. I never did. It is a good idea, Men- 
zies ? ” 

Excellent,” returned Menzies. I taught the 
winter school at Dazey three winters. I’ll talk to 
the youth about it. It’s time for him to be looking 
about *, he is as old as you are, Mollie, isn’t he % ” 

Is it time for me to be looking about ? ” asked 
Mollie, demurely. 

Somebody will soon be looking about for you,’? 
he answered. 

It was on the tip of Leila’s saucy tongue to 
remark, ^^Her mother is now,” but she. refrained. 
She wished, sometimes, people would give her 
credit for refraining. 


irUEN" IT RAINED.^ 


227 


What is Hiram doing for himself now f ” asked 
Leila. 

Studying, thinking, waiting — hoping,^^ said 
Mollie, and then she added, painting the tip of her 
finger green, he is praying. He is very good.’^ 
Then he^ll get it,’^ declared Leila, positively. 

I have great faith in other people^s prayers ; mine 
never amount to much.^’ 

O, Leila ! that’s wicked,” exclaimed Mollie. 

The truth isn’t wicked. Miss Olive knows 
mine never do.” 

Leila reminds me of myself so often,” said 
Olive, as she smoothed the hem she was turning. 

When I prayed in the intensity and anxiety of 
unbelief, I felt that praying was the hardest way of 
earning what I desired.” 

Leila nodded ; she knew she had not faith. 

But, Miss Vanema, can we have all the faith 
we want ? ” asked Mollie. That puzzles me so ! ” 
How much do you want ? ” asked Olive. 

Oh, so much ! Ever so much ! ” 

Who owns all the faith 1 ” 

Why — Giod does,” was the astonished answer. 
Who makes it all and gives it all ! ” 

I know He does.” 


228 


OTHER FOLK. 


But you don’t know how to get it ^ ’’ 

No, I don’t. Not all I want.” 

Have you any 1 ” 

I’m afraid not,” said Mollie. 

Then I would tell Him I hadn’t any, and ask 
Him to give me some.” 

I want more than some.” 

Then I would ask for more than some ; I’d ask 
for all I wanted ; I’d ask for all He hadP 
Is He willing to give so much ? ” 

0, Mollie, Mollie — what isnH He willing to give ^ 
Can He give anything dearer than what He has 
given ? ” 

Mollie looked troubled and did not know how to 
reply. 

I do not think He loves to give what we will 
hoard, what we do not care for — when He gives 
faith He gives it for us to 

Oh, now I see,” said Mollie, brightening. 

Perhaps He thinks I do not use the very little bit 
I have.” 

He Jcnows I do not,” said Leila, positively. 

The tests come with the faith ; there is some- 
thing to do, something to have, sojnething to believe 
with every particle of faith He gives us. Faith 


IVffEJV IT RAINED, 


229 


grows with exercise. God gives it something to 
grow on.’’ 

Olive was at home with girls ; she was at home 
with the things of God. She could forget herself ; 
she had no self. There was something in the look 
and attitude of Allan Menzies that kept her from 
being shy of talking to these girls in his presence j 
she saw that he cared for what she said j that he 
cared and believed. 

You remember the man born blind ; Jesus 
passed by and saw him. He always sees when He 
seems to be passing by. He anointed his eyes with 
clay and told him to go and wash in the pool of 
Siloain. The blind man started — he had faith 
enough to start j he did not murmur by the way 
about what was the use of washing the clay off 
after the Lord had put it on ; and what good could 
the water of Siloam do ? That had never healed 
anybody’s blindness. Jesus had touched his eyes 
and his sight was not restored ; if that touch had no 
healing, what was the use of going off by himself in 
the dark ? Suppose he had turned about and not 
obeyed the command ! But he went, and washed — 
and then he came back seeing. In telling the peo- 
ple about it he said, ^ I went, I washed, and I re- 


230 


OTHER FOLK. 


ceived sight. I obeyed and I received.^ That’s the 
way to get more faith — obey. Obey all God wants 
and He will give you all the faith you want.” 

Mollie was thinking that she did not obey very 
well j she did not even know half of the things she 
must do. 

Miss Olive ! ” said Leila, resting both hands 
upon the work in her lap. I had a question laid 
up for you : I do not know how to read the Bible. 
I try to tell the mission girls I am teaching, but I 
do not know how myself.” 

She has just told you,” said Menzies, in a 
tone new to him 5 read about that blind man as 
she did. ’ 

shouldn’t have read all that between the 

lines.” 

Of course not. That comes by exercise, like 
faith.” 

Sometimes I don’t read because I don’t find 
what I want,” Leila answered, wilfully. 

0, Leila, that’s wicked ! ” Mollie said, again. 

Did you think I was good ? ” laughed Leila. 

^^It is my mistakes and discouragements that 
help me,” said Olive. don’t know what I should 
do without them. They are the making of me.” 


WHEN IT RAINED. 


231 


I wish I could have some like them/’ said 
Leila ; mine do not seem to blossom into a new 
kind of fruit.” 

How delightfully personal we are ! ” remarked 
Andrew, on the stairs, as he paused a moment. 

Oh, dear,” sighed Leila, under her breath, 
^^now our good time is over.” 

Opening the book, Menzies asked Leila if he 
should read again. 

Oh, I don’t know ! I wanted to talk ! ” she 
said, discontentedly. Do take him off fishing.” 

That’s an invitation to take myself off,” Menzies 
answered, lazily, and your chamber is your castle 
and not to be invaded.” 

Andrew stopped on the threshold ; the group 
made a picture pleasant to look at ; Olive, with un- 
usual color in eye and cheek, was hemming the 
brown gingham, Leila’s hands were folded over a 
mass of pretty stuff in her lap, at the table Mollie 
was bending over her blackberry blossom ; on the 
arm of the lounge Menzies balanced himself with 
his book in his hand. 

Shall I be the serpent and enter Eden % ” An- 
drew asked, mockingly, his handsome face alight 
with fun. 


232 


OTHER FOLK. 


You don^t have to enter,” observed Leila, with 
her usual frankness. 

He laughed and dropped down on the lounge be- 
side the brown gingham 5 Olive’s small rocker was 
near the head of the lounge within reach of her 
work-basket and her work. 

Napoleon remarked that Impossible was a 
word found only in the dictionary of fools,” said 
Andrew, but I don’t believe he ever tried to get 
up a picnic in a pouring rain.” 

Or to read when girls were chattering,” re- 
marked Menzies j this chapter on the ^ Responsi- 
bilities of Wealth ’ doesn’t appear to be aimed at 
me.” 

Or me ; because I have no responsibility,” re- 
plied Andrew, in gayest humor. 

You heard somebody say that he who avoids 
responsibility does not avoid accountability,” re- 
minded Leila, sharply ; you looked at me in 
church when he said it.” 

Yes, I thought he was hitting you.” 

How it makes me feel at home to hear you two 
quarrel ! ” said Olive, smiling. 

wish I could think of something else to amuse 
you,” said Andrew. 


WHEN IT RAINED. 


233 


I am not languishing to be amused/^ Olive re- 
turned. These aprons are a great amusement. 
What a pity you two gentlemen cannot sew ^ 

We reap, instead,” replied Andrew, seri- 
ously. 

I hope you reap something better than a 
wretched pun,” retorted Leila, provoked. 

1 shall have to separate you two,” threatened 
Olive. 

By sitting between us,” cried Andrew, do.” 

We are cousins, aren^t we, Menzies ? ” asked 
Mollie, looking up from the troubled contemplation 
of her work, and we don’t have to be separated, 
do we ? ” 

No j I tell you all my secrets,” Menzies 
answered, in a happy voice. 

I wish I had one to tell,” said Andrew, plain- 
tively. Mollie, what is the last he whispered to 
you ? ” 

Mollie’s look, at once distressed and delighted, 
brought a shout of laughter. 

I will tell you,” said Menzies, quietly, but in a 
tone that stilled them, my five years’ engage- 
ment is broken. Miss Graham will some day be 
married to some one else — a German physician and 


234 


OTHER FOLK. 


professor; her mother was a Grerman lady, and this 
gentleman is a cousin whom she became acquainted 
with for the first time on the other side of the 
water.” 

Olivers fingers trembled, but she held her needle 
firmly and gave it a push through her work ; the 
next instant Mollie was on her feet pouring out the 
whole incoherent story ; afterward she wondered 
how she dared ; but how could she let them think 
that this girl had thrown him away because he was 
not the truest and best man that could be — and he 
had been so kind to her and never thought of him- 
self — and then she was frightened and burst into 
tears and ran away sobbing. 

Mollie^s version has its foundation in truth,” 
Menzies went on with the same quietness, but I 
have not behaved half like a man. Her devotion 
to me overcame her. I intended merely to state 
the fact of my release — it is a sad thing when one 
is tempted to speak of such a breaking as a re- 
lease — Miss Graham deserves to be as happy as I 
hope she will be. The only comfort I can get out 
of my share in it is that I have made her as little 
unhappy as I could.” 

With his book in his hand he went away. He 


JVBEAT IT RAINED. 


235 


had not once glanced toward the silvered head bent 
low over the work. 

How I must have hurt him ! ” exclaimed Leila, 
penitently. My tongue will be the ruin of some- 
body 

What a blessed child that Mollie is/’ said 
Andrew. Who would have thought the pluck 
was in her ? But perhaps it is another case of 
cousin.” 

No, it isn’t,” Leila answered, decidedly. 

There’s something in him, too,” said Andrew, 
patronizingly, some fellows will swear to their 
own hurt and not change, as the Bible has it.” 

Like Shakespeare, the Bible was to Andrew 
Croft a book of fine quotations. 

Perhaps Mr. Croft does not remember the con- 
nection of the words he has quoted,” said Olive, 
surprising herself by the clearness and evenness of 
her tones. 

No, I don’t ; what is it ? ” he inquired careless- 
ly. I have a way of getting at half a thing.” 

The psalm opens : ^ Lord, who shall abide in 
thy tabernacle ? who shall dwell in thy holy hill ? ’ 
And among those chosen is he who sweareth to his 
own hurt and qhangeth not.” 


236 


OTHER FOLK. 


Then I shall never get into that holy hill/’ he 
answered, merrily. My common sense keeps me 
out of such tight places.” 

It ends : ^ He that doeth these things shall 
never be moved/ ” said Olive, still evenly and 
clearly, and wondering at herself. 

^^He will not be, he has that air,” commented 
Leila. I didn’t think I should end by admiring 
him devoutly.” 

And it will be an experiment now that may 
pay,” returned her cousin, not caring to conceal his 
vexation ; he’s a dull old fellow with not two 
ideas in his head.” 

His one idea isn’t to do well by himself,’^ 
retorted Leila, and let the world sink or 
swim.” 

Well,” returned her cousin, his good humor 
returning, they say there’s a special providence 
over fools and children, and he is certainly pro- 
vided for. Olive, can’t you think of something 
beside your work 1 ” 

Yes,” said Olive, with her eyes full of sun- 
shine, let’s put on our waterproofs and go out in 
the rain. The brook will be something to see, and 
I really believe I see brightness in the south.” 


WHEN IT RAINED. 


237 


Where your ship is sailing from/’ reminded 
Leila. Let’s go out and look for a sail.” 

Or a cloud as large as a man’s hand,” sug- 
gested Andrew ; not that I would put another 
cloud in your sky, Olive.” 

But where is the beauty of a sky without 
clouds?” Leila questioned. Miss Olive, I can’t see 
any brightness,” she added, going to the window ; 

it’s pouring harder and harder. But there’s 
Hiram ! I heard Mrs. Di tell him her boarders 
would be crazy for the mail. I shall hear from 
papa j he’s my lover and writes every day.” 

Her feet did not seem to touch the stairs as she 
ran down j Diantha said she herself would die of 
heart-disease, brought on by fright, before that fly- 
ing girl went home. 

Do you believe half that story ? ’’ inquired 
Andrew, turning to Olive. 

What story % ” returned Olive, gaining time. 
^^That story of Mollie’s about Menzies.’^ 

He did not contradict it.” 

No ; he wanted to make himself a hero ! He 
isn’t the kind of stuff for sentiment ; he’s too fond 
of his beef and bath-tub ; he’s as human as I am.” 

Wasn’t that a human thing to do ? ” 


238 


OTHER FOLK, 


has pulled the wool over your eyes. I 
would like to be a woman j ust for the sake of be- 
lieving in men,^^ 

Isn’t it as well to be a man and believe in rare 
women ? ” 

Don’t you believe in rare women % ” he asked. 

I most sincerely and ardently do.” 

Then it* I were a woman I should believe in 
good men and rare women.” 

Don’t you now % ” 

When I see them j I don’t see them,” he said, 
sharply. 

I am sorry for the people you associate with, 
then,” was Olive’s mischievous retort. 

Leila returned with a bundle of letters and pa- 
pers ; her face was very serious. 

Hiram brought a telegram, too — for Mr. Men- 
zies — with bad news. His father ! He is very 
ill.” 

But he saw him yesterday,” said Andrew. 

He is subject to bad attacks, Mrs. Di said. 
She talked like a cataract, and told him all about it, 
and that he mustn’t be surprised to find him gone 
— at his age, and wasn’t this the third one ^ I ran 
away from her.” 


IVI/EAr IT RAINED. 


239 


''What did he do!’' 

" He told Hiram he would go to the next train, 
and he just has time to catch it. He would have 
forgotten his hat if Mollie hadn’t got it for him. I 
am glad we were not away on our drive.” 

Olive was glad for all that morning. 

" I’m glad he saw his father yesterday,” said 
Leila, holding her father’s letter with a loving 
tightness in her fingers. 

Olive had several letters from girls she had 
taught ; when she had made a friend she could not 
let her go ; she was laying up friendships for old age, 
she told Leila. It was hard to read her letters ; 
after finding that she v/as getting nothing out of 
them she slipped them under the work in her lap. 

Mollie and Andrew chatted like two girls over 
their news ; the letter from Indian Territory, where 
Dr. Provost was busy, was lengthy (written an hour 
before midnight) and as interesting as though he 
intended it for the newspaper. Leila cherished 
every scrap he wrote to her. Two letters from 
Alaska were filled with gossip and travel. Olive 
sewed and tried to listen. When the train whistled, 
she knev/ Allan was on the way to his father. He 
loved his father. How merry the talk had been an 


240 


OTHER FOLK. 


hour ago! How merry it was now between the 
two over their letters ! 

Would Miss Hannah like her aprons with strings 
or to button 1 She would go down and ask Di- 
antha. 

Oh, with strings/’ said Diantha, decidedly 
And you knew Menzies has gone ? I don’t 
believe he will be back this summer.” 


XIII. 

WHEN IT CLEARED. 

My heart is quiet with what I know, 

With what I hope is gay.’^ 

— George Macdonald. 

The tap at Olivers door announced a visitor 5 it 
was Leila, in waterproof and rubbers ; it was two 
hours after dinner and still pouring. 

I had to run away,” Leila explained. Mrs. 
Di got us down in her parlor, by hook or crook, 
and there she talked and talked. I never saw her 
in quite such a flow of spirits and talk. Andrew is 
vastly amused and helps along by pretending to be 
interested. She made poor little Mollie show him 
all her paintings and her school prizes, and she 
would make her dance a jig for his benefit if the 
poor child knew how. She was so sweet about it • 
I knew it was hurting her, and he stopped the show 

at last by asking Mollie to run up to my room for 

241 


242 


OTHER FOLK. 


the book he was reading. Then I ran off. She 
talked about Cousin Menzies and Uncle Aaron for 
an hour, giving a detailed account of all their busi- 
ness and home affairs.’’ 

Leila’s indignant head shook the hood of her 
waterproof off, and she placed the muddied rubbers 
on a bare place on the floor. 

She says Uncle Aaron has heaps of money and 
his children will be rewarded by his stinginess 
Three sisters and three brothers ! It would take 
a fortune to make them all rich. I suppose ten 
thousand is riches to her, and he may have that 
sum to divide around. Andrew tried to get her off 
by telling her that it has been estimated that if all 
the wealth of the United States should be equally 
divided he — Mr. Menzies — ^would not have three 
thousand dollars 5 not that Mr. Menzies was al- 
luded to in the estimate,” said Leila, laughing. 

He told Mollie to pack his things and send them. 
He left good-bye for all of us, Mrs. Di said, and 
looked at his watch and didn’t have time to come 
up and say it. I’m sorry his work is interrupted — 
isn’t that heartless 1 But I was so interested. 
Mrs. Di will never know that I did it for nothing 
but out of sheer idleness. 1 told him if he ever 


IVI/EAT IT CLEARED. 


243 


made me a present, I should not regard him as a 
gentleman ; with which threat he was crushed. 
Olive, dear, 1 came to be rested.’^ 

The little thing cuddled herself into Olivers lap 
and wound both arms about her neck. 

I could not sleep last night ! The wheels in my 
head went round and round ; I was so penitent, 
and disappointed, and discouraged, and humiliated, 
that I had to cry and cry.” 

Poor child,” soothed Olive, in her loving voice. 
It was very sweet to give this girl the motherliness 
she had missed. 

IVe done a dreadful thing.” 

You have told me that before.” 

But this time it is the worst I ever did. It 
kills me with remorse and penitence. You know 
Howard Davidson — the dearest, fellow in the world 
— as good as a minister and as bright as a lawyer — 
I determined I^d make him like me. I did my best, 
because he called me an ugly little thing once, and 
said I was all brains and had no heart — and I did ; 
he did like me, he liked me too much,, and wrote 
and told me so, and I wrote him such a letter and 
told him I only did it out oPfun, and didn^t mean 
for him to care in earnest, and I am ashamed 


244 


OTHER FOLK. 


enough of myself to die. I don’t deserve the 
sunshine to shine on me. I didn’t think I could be 
so wicked j I don’t believe God ever can forgive 
me, I’ve asked Him over and over. I have always 
despised heartless girls, and now I am one of them 
myself. And he answered and said because I was 
a Christian he had trusted me. I don’t believe I am 
a Christian, at all. And the worst of it is, I am 
afraid I would do it again if I had another tempta- 
tion. I love to have people love me. I haven’t 
anybody but papa. And love is too good a thing 
to get in such a mean way. I never can love him 
any better than I do 5 I’m cooling towards him all 
the time ; I’m tired of him and I meant only 
friendship. We had church-work together 5 he’s a 
great worker and thinks I am, and we were always 
on committees, and I had no bother — and he 
suggested that we should go through life a 
committee of two ! And I’m angry and ashamed 
and don’t believe I’m half as much to be blamed as 
I think I am.” 

Suppose you do not try to weigh the responsi- 
bility — he has his share of it : be forgiven and 
that’s the end of it.” 

But I Q,m!ifeel forgiven. And because I can’t 


IVffEJV IT CLEANED. 


245 


I get angry with Howard. O, Olive, I didn^t know 
I was so wicked, she moaned. 

It is the wicked ones who have the forgiveness, 
dear.” 

I seem to think I must be punished first.” 

You are punished, you may need more punish- 
ment; but you have the forgiveness just the 
same. Take both from the same Love and Wis- 
dom.” 

want to he punished,” acknowledged the 
heart-broken voice. I am so disappointed in my- 
self.” 

David was forgiven and punished. I think we 
are apt to think that the Lord forgives and forgets; 
He forgives and remembers — He remembers us, so 
lovingly and tenderly, and remembers our sin, hat- 
ing it and not bearing to look upon it; David said, 
H have sinned.’ And the Lord told him how he 
would punish him, and he said in the same breath, 
‘The Lord also hath put away thy sin, thou shalt 
not die.^ The forgiveness is carried on all through 
the life we live endlessly ; the punishment stops in 
this life, and sometimes after a very little while. 
Both are in God^s hand with every sin He for- 
gives.” 


246 


OTHER FOLK. 


^ ^But we don’t do so j we don^t both punish and 
forgive/^ Leila urged. 

We are not wise like God j we know how to 
forgive ; we don^t know how to punish.’^ 

The punishment tempered with forgiveness 
must be very sweet.^’ 

. It is,” Olive said. I know.” 

Do I tire you % I want to sit just so. It rests 
my back and it rests my heart.” 

It rests my heart, too. And I will tell you 
what I was thinking when I heard you on the 
stairs. It came to me to-day. I was sitting here 
thinking over come thing that troubled me — once 
I was impulsive and did an unwise thing. I 
thought I was very unselfish and right and doing 
what the Lord would tell me to do if I could hear 
His voice, and I opened the Bible and found some- 
thing new. It was about some one who was always 
rash and impatient, and I found the reason he had 
for it this time ; he misinterpreted some of the Lord^s 
plain words. That night before the Lord went into 
the Mount of Olives He talked to His disciples, and 
He told them something new. He asked them if 
they lacked anything when He sent them out before 
without purse and scrip and shoes, and they said 


IVI/EJV IT CLEARED. 


247 


^Nothing.’ Then He told them that the times had 
changed, and they must provide themselves with 
these things ; they would even need swords, and if 
they hadn’t one must even sell their garments to 
get one. So what must impulsive, jumping-at- 
conclusions Peter think hut that his time had 
come to use one ? And he did that very night, and 
cut off the ear of Malchus. And then my comfort 
came in the Lord’s sympathy and ready help. He 
did not let Peter’s rashness hurt Malchus very 
long.” 

But perhaps He doesn’t send help now as soon 
as that.” 

He sends it soon enough. Be sure of that.” 

I was selfish and mean — you were trying to 
he unselfish.” 

Yes, I think I was. I was afraid — afraid of 
my father’s anger. Had I trusted my Father in 
Heaven — I should not have been so afraid of my 
father on earth. But I was young. Little girl, 
you are very young. Grod does not expect old 
wisdom of young heads,’’ Olive comforted. 

But He expects us to do as right as we know.” 

Then how disappointed He must be!” said 
Olive. 


248 


OTHER FOLK. 


I don’t like to have Him disappointed in me.’’ 

He is not disappointed in your penitence and 
humiliation and tears.” 

There were tears now ; Olive did not speak, she 
let the tears come. 

Are you happy about that now ? Or has' it 
hurt all the time ? ” Leila asked, longing to know 
how another girl had been impulsive and rash. 

It has hurt — at times, I am very quiet about 
it now. I never put it in words before. How this 
summer is bringing me out of myself! Another 
one like it would make me frank and demonstra- 
tive.” 

I hope you will have another one like it — for 
my sake.” 

Do you know what I would love to do with 
you ? ” 

Push me off your lap — all my ninety -four 
pounds!” Leila guessed, with her mischievous 
laugh. 

I would like to put you on my bed and cover 
you up and see you go to sleep.” 

And m listen to the rain and go to sleep.” 

Leila did not know how a mother comforted j but 
she knew how God comforted. 


WHEN- IT CLEARED. 


249 


When she awoke the sun was shining. She lay 
still looking about the chamber. 

Olive sat at the table writing 5 she wrote hur- 
riedly, and then paused, and sat thinking with her 
pen held carelessly. She had not spoken to Leila 
of a Prayer Circle to which she belonged ] in the 
spring, among the many letters she brougnt from the 
mail in that pleasant walk through the woods, was 
one from a friend whom she had not known for 
years, excepting through the lively interchange of 
letters. This friend wrote about a Prayer Circle 
she was forming, and asked her to become the 
eighty-seventh member. It will bring no demand 
upon'^you, excepting in your hours of prayer. Many 
of the members are unknown to each other and 
their lives touch only in this way. We believe the 
Lord’s words that if two or three agree in what 
they ask they shall be heard and it shall be done 
for them. Ask for any or all of us what you ask 
for yourself, as often or as rarely as you will. You 
will be within the circle of the blessing that is being 
showered down upon us. Yesterday I was greatly 
helped to do a disagreeable duty; when it was over, 
and well and easily over, the truth came to me anew 
and with power — ^ Somebody is praying for you.’ 


250 


OTHER FOLK. 


I do believe Christ presents these prayers to 
His Father. I believe Ho is praying for us 
too.^^ 

Enclosed was a printed slip, descriptive, by num- 
bers, of the members of the circle. 

Olive wrote against number eighty-seven : Ono 
who wishes to be helped in forgetting herself and 
to have her eyes opened to the need of those immedi- 
ately about her, and to be made peculiarly ready 
to meet it.’^ 

The name and address of any member were 
given upon application to the friend who formed 
the circle 5 Olive had obtained the name of a young 
girl in a hospital, that of a missionary's daughter in 
Honolulu, and learned that the young school-teacher 
who found teaching up-hill work ” was some one 
she had seen and could not forget, and in this way 
found that she was willing to be helped. She was 
writing to her when Leila opened her eyes and lay 
still, watching her. 

Olive, I am thinking — I cannot think it out — 
is everybody punished for sin, everybody who is 
forgiven I 

What do you think ? Olive asked, with her 
class-ipom manner. 


WHEN IT CLEANED, 


251 


I cannot think. I thought David^s case might 
be peculiar.” 

I suppose every wound leaves a scar.” 

Literally, yes.” 

You care, peculiarly, perhaps, for the good 
opinion of — people whos% opinion you care for.” 

Lucidly put,” laughed Leila, pushing another 
small piUow under her head. 

When you do something to lose that, you are 
punished.” 

I aniy that’s true,” assented Leila, with laughing 
emphasis. 

If I lose a friend I might keep, by carelessness 
or selfishness, I lose all she might be to me or do 
for me.” 

I know I have lost in that way. I’m terribly 
careless about friendships^^! let people keep hold 
of me if they care for me.” 

Not making the best of our day of ^ rest and 
gladness,’ we are punished in ourselves ; we don’t 
begin to know how much we lose in losing, and not 
keeping, the Sabbath day holy.” 

Oh, dear, you mean me ! I didn’t open the 
Bible once last Sunday and I did talk with An- 
drew upon light subjects ; it was a very literary 


252 


OTHER FOLK. 


conversation, and we enjoyed it, but I was smitten 
when I went to bed and thought how my day had 
gone.^’ 

\Ye are punished in not getting the good from 
people we know j we are punished for not giving 
the best in us.^^ 

You know that is hard work,^^ muttered Leila, 
giving a pillow a vindictive push. 

I did not know that hard work was the con- 
sideration,’^ said Olive, nibbling the end of her pen- 
holder. 

It isn’t,” Leila grumbled, laughing j go on. 
Hit me again, and hit me harder.” 

We are punished by not receiving the good we 
might have. We do not ask for it, or we ask 
selfishly.” 

^^Well, we are selfish creatures.” 

And must be treated then as selfish creatures. 
We are punished, in mental loss, if we read that 
which requires no thinking.” 

Do I read so many novels ? ” inquired the 
girl, aggrieved, rising to lean on her elbow. 

Who brought home five yesterday from a walk 
to Monroe ? ” 

Andrew chose them for me. He’s the greatest 


WI/EAr IT CLEARED, 


253 


novel reader ! I told him they were trash, and he 
said trash was written for hot weather. I don’t be- 
lieve I shall do more than look through them any- 
way. Do you know all last week I was under a 
cloud, and couldn’t get out from under it, and af- 
ter reading Ephesians through with you, my men- 
tal atmosphere was cleared and I knew that it was a 
book I had been fascinated with. It raised doubts 
and did not answer them. I don’t know that I am 
as clear-headed and pure-hearted yet as I was before 
I lived in that book, with those people. I told 
Andrew not to read it. I am punished for that.” 

And forgiven ? ” 

I don’t know yet j I hadn’t thought of some of 
these things as evil. When I don’t know what is 
the matter with me, and I am heavy hearted, and 
dull in seeing, I think now it is some punishment 
hanging over me. I think I am blue. I ought to 
be punished black and blue, and I’m glad I am. 
Olive,” sitting upright and pushing her hair 
from her temples with both hands, what a 
merciful thing punishment is ! ” 

It is a part of the loving kindness.” 

I never thought of giving thanks for punish- 
ment j I think it must be in the forgiveness j He 


254 


OTHER FOLK. 




punishes because He forgives. Ob, isn^t it most 
terrible to be punished and not forgiven I 

Olive’s pen went on with its rapid work 5 Leila 
arose and brushed her hair. 

Man’s work shall be burned, but himself shall 
be saved,” Olive remarked, after a while, as she 
addressed her letter. I am afraid my worh in 
life will become too much to me. I am not willing 
yet to do nothing. If I didn’t find some little new 
thing every day, I should think I was a cumberer 
of the ground.’’ 

And that is the way you talk to Andrew and 
stir him up to self-reproach, if nothing else.” 

And after all, work is so little in itself. I am 
afraid of making an idol of it. I’ve had to tell 
myself to-day that it was not enough for the young 
ruler to keep the commandments, not enough to 
sell aU he had and give it away, not enough to take 
up the cross, even 5 he had to do all that and tMn 
— follow Him whom he called Good Master j follow 
Him wherever He went.” 

Olive,” Leila dropped the paper-cutter she had 
been playing with, it’s the hardest thing in the 
world to do that. I donH do it, I’m having a self- 
ish time this summer. I don’t do anything I don’t 


WHEN IN CLEARED. 


255 


want to do. There are many things for me to 
give up — and I thought I had given up ever so 
many. And then there are things for me to do, 
I love study too well.” 

No ; you do not. Only love something else 
better.” 

I don^t.” 

What do you study for ? ” 

Love of it 5 pure love of it. Fve been learn- 
ing some of the most delightful and wonderful facts 
lately in science.” 

Grod made them j He made all truth. It all 
depends upon what you do with what you learn.” 

I don^t know yet.” 

Don’t you understand your tastes and sym- 
pathies ? ” 

I will do something ; I am determined to do 
something beside stuff myself. Papa wishes me to 
study systematically, under teachers, this winter 5 
he has not been willing before j but I can’t do it and 
keep house as he likes to have it kept. I proposed 
boarding, but he would be as uneasy as a fish out 
of water in a hotel or stylish boarding house. And 
there’s Andrew. He must have a house ; his 
mother lives for society, and Andrew hates it. 


2n6 


OTHER FOLK. 


There’s a great deal to think of to keep our ma- 
chinery running smoothly, with so many to entertain, 
and there must never be ajar. Papa writes that 
he has thought of a way out of it that will be a 
pleasant surprise to me. I canH come out of my 
books to settle a dispute between servants or to 
make the week^s bill of fare, and papa must have 
variety. He doesnH see any reason why every- 
thing should not suit him, neither do I, if I had the 
time and the inclination. I think he is seeing that 
I cannot do two things with the perfection that 
pleases him. He says his plan will satisfy him and 
be just what I would wish for.’^ 

I am curious to know,^^ said Olive. 

He will not write it. Oh, I hope, but no — it 
isn’t, it can’t be — he knows I wouldn’t wish for 
that — Olive, he cannot be going to be married ! ’’ 
Leila’s eyes grew large through startled tears. 

No, dear,” said Olive, very sorry for the girl 
who had had her father all to herself ever since her 
babyhood, and who had been encouraged in wilful 
ways, I cannot believe that. He knows you ; 
he would not torture you with unpleasant sus- 
pense.” 

I will give up my studies, I will keep his house 


WHEN- IT CLEARED. 


257 


exactly as he wishes/’ she cried, excitedly ; tell 
me, Olive, are you sure % ” bending toward her 
and catching her hand. 

As sure as that I know his heart toward you.” 

I suppose he’s human 5 I wish he wasn’t.” 

Olive sealed her letter ; Leila pricked the cretonne 
with the point of the paper-cutter. 

I suppose you’ve got to read to that old mother 
down-stairs ; what’s the use of having daughters 
if they don’t read to her ? ” Leila asked, crossly. 

They are too busy. Canning and carpet rags, 
and patchwork and dressmaking are quite enough 
for one rainy day. The old lady is quite literary 
in her tastes, although she will contend that her 
geography published sixty years ago is ahead of 
the handsome, illustrated books of to-day. I told 
her discoveries were being made all the time, and 
she said it was better to know a little and know it 
well.” 

What would she think of a spectroscope that 
decides about the materials now in a state of com- 
bustion in the sun % ” 

Go down with me and tell her.” 

I’m glad the sun is shining. Olive, I do feel 
punished and I’ll try to get at the bottom of it.” 


258 


OTHER FOLK. 


That evening she solemnly asked Andrew if he 
were aware of the punishments in his life. 

They were sitting at the dining-room table ; he 
was playing jack-straws with Mollie 5 Hiram stood 
looking on ; he was not in his shirt sleeves j now 
that her boarders had come, Diantha insisted that 
David should wear coat and collar in the dining- 
room. She said Hiram was a fop already and too 
glad of opportunities to dress up : she really 
believed he would like to dress like Mr. Croft ; 
perhaps Mr. Croft would favor him with some of his 
handsome cast-off clothes. 

This taunt had been flimg at the young fellow 
when he appeared in the kitchen after supper in his 
best suit, with a grammar in his hand. 

Mollie’s eyes kept the angry retort in his eyes 
from breaking into words. 

I’ll study to-night,’’ she said, you can make 
believe teach me grammar.” 

The grammar lesson was in progress when 
Andrew entered with his box of jack-straws. 

Mollie is engaged,” Hiram remarked rudely. 

No, she isn’t,” Diantha called out from the 
kitchen. Mollie, do what Mr. Croft wants you 
to.” 


lVir£J\r IT CLEANED. 


259 


Iliram closed his book ; Andrew showered the 
jack-straws on the table and gave Mollie the hook 
to pick them np. 

I haven’t any/’ Andrew answered lazily, with a 
glance at Leila, unless you are one of them by 
bringing such questions up. Mollie, steady nerves 
are a great blessing to a woman. Don’t joggle ! 
joggling is bad for the thing that comes 
next.” 

When you come next,” said Leila, sharply. 
She was out of patience with him to-night. 

David was reading aloud to his wife in the 
kitchen — Lucy Ann had gone home for the night — 
his loud ^^ha ! ha ! ” burst out every now and then ; 
Leila wondered why he had to mumble at family 
worship when he could laugh so distinctly at a news- 
paper joke. Listen,” he called out to the people 
around the dining-room table, ^ No person having 
tried one of these air-tight coffins will ever use any 
other.’ ” 

That’s as bad as something I saw to-day,” 
remarked Andrew, when the laugh subsided. 

^ Babies having taking one bottle of my soothing 
syrup will never cry any more.’ ” 

I learned something to-day about Augustine,” 


260 


OTHER FOLK. 


said Hiram, with his eyes on the game, as Mollie 
carefully lifted a straw 5 he lived about the year 
400, and did not believe there were people on the 
other side of the world.’’ 

^^All the better for him,” observed Andrew, 
grimly, this world is too full of people for any- 
body’s comfort.” 

Charles Dudley Warner says he wouldn’t kill 
the smallest child, though,” said Leila, even 
when they get into his garden.” 

There ! ” exclaimed Mollie, I’ve joggled.” 

People are not thrown together like jack- 
straws,” moralized Leila. ^^Oh, here comes Olive; 
she has a steady hand.” 

Hiram and I are to have a grammar lesson,” 
said Olive, he wishes to learn how to teach gram- 
mar without a book — ^without the child having a 
book.” 

Is that grammar — that sentence % ” inquired 
Leila. It sounds awkward.” 

ly,” spelled Olive, seriously. 

The jack-straws and the grammar lesson went dili- 
gently on. 

It had been a good day for several people. 


XIV. 

HER HIDDEN LIFE. 

Every kindness done to others in our daily walk, every 
attempt to make others happy, every prejudice overcome, 
every truth more clearly perceived, every difficulty subdued, 
every sin left behind, every temptation trampled under foot, 
every step forward in the cause of good, is a step nearer to 
the life of Christ.” — Dean Stanley. 

Three weeks after that rainy day Diantha went 
to the city to spend the day ; in the morning she 
did some shopping, in the afternoon she attended 
the funeral of Allan Menzies’ old father. She came 
home in the evening train laden with bargains and 
news. At the breakfast table the next morning 
she unloaded herself j Lucy Ann and Mollie had 
already examined and commented upon the bar- 
gains ; the news she reserved, by a strong effort 

of will, until they were all at the breakfast table. 

261 


262 


OTHER FOLK. 


I was that surprised, you may believe/^ sbe 
began, in the tone of one having a long story 
to tell, ^Svhen Cousin Sarah Menzies — she lives 
next door to Uncle Aaron and has for years and 
years — told me all about it. I wouldn’t believe it, if 
it hadn’t come so straight. I went there the first 
thing and left my umbrella, for the clouds all blew 
away, and told her I should be back before the 
funeral, so she asked me to be sure to be in time for 
lunch at half-past twelve, which was earlier than 
usual, on account of the funeral. David, you are 
cutting that steak the wrong way; Miss Leila is 
very particular about her steak ; give her that 
piece under the bone. Well, Sarah told me all 
about it. I guess we sat at the table a good hour, she 
and I all alone. Menzies has never written a word 
except that first note to Mollie, so it was all news 
to me. His father was unconscious when he got 
there and although he came out of it and spoke a 
little, he never knew much. He always knew Al- 
lan, and kept him night and day by him. They 
telegraphed for Amzi, he’s the youngest, about 
Mollie’s age ; he was away fishing ; I guess he’s 
always away fishing, or away something, and don’t 
amount to much, and Butler was home — he boards 


HER HIDDEN LIFE. 


263 


home ; he’s clerk in a big house j he’s next to Allan, 
and over forty, and the three girls come between ; 
girls between thirty and forty, though ; I haven’t 
been in Uncle Aaron’s house for ten years, he and I 
couldn’t get on together 5 he had ways of his own. 
Well, the children were all there all the time. And 
the thing that surprised me was that the old man 
isn’t so rich after all ! He had to be stingy ; Allan 
and Butler have always had to help the girls. It’s 
true he retired from business years ago; but he was 
afraid of losing the little he had, and he knew Allan 
and Butler would help along. Sarah says ten thous- 
and dollars is about all there is ! What surprises 
me is that those girls haven’t done something all 
these years : so many ways open to women, and in 
the city, too. Miss Vanema, those Indian-raeal 
cakes are as light as they look^ — Hiram, pass them; 
Mollie, child, bring in another griddleful, your 
aunt has got them ready. Miss Leila, I made that 
maple syrup myself. Of course the housekeeping 
will gc on just the same, his death hasn’t changed 
any thing. Those boys will have to keep up the 
house as usual, or Allan will, for Butler is engaged 
and is to be married this fall. Sarah says this 
won’t hinder it, he told her, and that he will never 


264 


OTHER FOLK. 


bring bis wife home to three sisters-in-law and two 
brothers-in-law, and the girls must do with less, or 
go out in the world and get more. Amzi ought to 
spunk up and do something for himself, if he don’t 
for them, but Sarah says it isn’t in him. He’s 
crazy for a farm, but nobody’s got money to buy 
him a farm. I saw him after the funeral. I took 
a cup of tea with them and he asked me if I wanted 
somebody to help around a month for his board and 
learn farming, and I told him plainly that we had 
enough to he^p around and enough to do to make it 
go around! I don’t want any lazy relations about 
me. Menzies paid his board here two weeks last 
summer, and he may come again for as long as his 
brother will promise to pay good board. He did 
learn to plow, and David said he made as handsome 
a furrow as he ever saw. I did feel sorry for the 
girls — their mourning is as handsome as though their 
father had left them ten thousand apiece — and they 
went so still about the house. Abby is stout, like 
Menzies, she’s housekeeper 5 Letty is pretty and 
thin, and she’s the dressmaker j she hasn’t learned 
any trade, but she has taken it up; and the youngest 
is a delicate looking thing, and they all pet her and let 
her do fancy work. They have a girl, I don’t see 


HER HIDDEN LIFE. 


2G5 


how they can afford it; I guess they can’t after But- 
ler takes his board money away. I asked Abby if 
it woiddn’t be a good plan to take a few boarders, 
single gentlemen, clerks or something, but she said 
she had never thought of such a thing, Jane is 
going to Dazey for two weeks, where an old aunt 
lives, and the others will take their turns, even 
Amzi goes there. This Aunt Betsey — IVe heard 
of her — has a small farm, if it isn’t too small to call 
a farm, and she would like Jane, that’s the young- 
est, all the time, if she would stay. I asked Abby 
what they would do when Allan — they all called him 
Allan there, of course — went off to Germany. And 
she told me as cool as you please that he never 
would go. And thafs my crowning piece of news ! 
So happy they all are over it ! Jane said she 
couldn’t sleep for joy the night Allan wrote about it 
— of course, he wasn’t there to hear all this. 
David, I knew you would spill your coffee — do 
take your spoon out of your cup. It makes me fly 
to see it there ! And Abby said she felt that it 
was a providence that he is given back to them, 
and Letty said it happened just in time to help 
them bear their father’s death, for they didn’t know 
about Butler’s engagement — of course, he wasn’t 


266 


OTHER FOLK. 


there either — until after their father was taken 
sick ! They don^t know how it came around, and I 
suppose we never shall, but it was only a day or 
two before he went home that he wrote it, and it 
happened while he was here, but his engagement is 
off for good after all those devoted years, and after 
his telling me* that he would always stay engaged ! 
It is one of the mercies that do happen in this life ! 
For Virginia is so rich that she could marry a poor 
man twice a day if she wanted to.” 

The same one, let us hope ! ” said Leila^ 
seriously. 

But what the blow of it is to him no mortal 
tongue ever can tell. Just as she was walking 
across the room, too. Miss Vanema, you havenT 
eaten one thing. What can I get for you? I 
hadn’t oatmeal this morning, because I had these 
Indian cakes, and you said last week you had never 
tasted anything so good. There is some cold oat- 
meal, shall Mollie put it in the oven ? ” 

No, thank you.” 

I never saw him look worse — his father’s death 
and all ! He has a broken-hearted look in his 
eyes ; watching and all, too ! And his hand wasn’t 
so well as when he was here j Abby said that was 


HER HIDDEN LIFE. 


267 


because he was tired out, and that didn^t worry 
her. He spoke cross to Jane’s little pug, and it 
did me good, it sounded so human. If he’s cross, 
he’ll live through to it. It worries me to see a man 
too patient. Not that I am worried very often that 
way. Miss Leila, I found a gingham for Mollie, 
exactly like yours, only hers is pink where yours is 
blue ! As good a quality, and paid only eighteen 
cents, and you said yours was twenty-five. I was 
wondering who would pay the funeral expenses — 
everything was very handsome, and so many 
coaches ; and their plot in the cemetery is among 
the best ; his two wives are there ; Amzi’s mother 
and Jane’s mother were his second wife ; Jane is 
five years younger than the other girls.” 

It was raining this morning; not a soft, warm 
rain, falling in comforting drops, but hard, chilling, 
cheerless, as if there were not one sheltered spot 
in the whole world where one could be comforted. 

Miss Vanema, what in the world ? Mollie, think 
of something that Miss Vanema will eat ! ” Dian- 
tha set down her cup of hot, strong coffee and 
looked distressed. 

^^Get a rose leaf, Mollie,” suggested Andrew, a 
nice, tender one.” 


268 


OTHER FOLK. 


Mollie sped out in the rain and hurried back 
with her head and hands dripping, and brought a 
blush rose with three buds and a cluster of the yel- 
low-green leaves. 

0, Mollie, thank you, it^s the prettiest thing I 
ever saw,^^ exclaimed Olive, as Mollie laid it in her 
hand. 

Are your feet wet ? ” asked her. mother, let 
me see them.^^ 

There is something having a good time in this 
hard wmrld,^^ said Andrew. 

Yes, roses and birds,^^ returned Mollie. 

Shall we have a fire ? Diantha inquired of the 
breakfast table. 

Yes,’^ said Andrew j Mollie, take your huge 
bunch of tiger lilies out of the fireplace and kindle 
us a fire.’^ 

It was not an old-fashioned fireplace, but Hiram 
brought logs and kindled an old-fashioned fire : 
Mollie pushed a chair cushioned in home-made 
fashion within the cheer of the light and heat for 
Miss Vanema, and Andrew and Leila brought their 
chairs and their books. 

It required a strong effort of her will to keep 
Olive away from the snug solitariness of her cham- 


HER HIDDEN LIFE. 


269 


ber j she was weary to be alone, to think, to pray, 
to plan, to weep, perhaps, for suddenly her life had 
turned cheerless, like the day. 

But MoUie had pressed her into the chair and 
picked up the rose when she dropped it, and kept 
her with the others, and somehow Mollie was mak- 
ing her talk. Leila had fancy work, Andrew pre- 
tended to be absorbed in a new book, Olive had her 
rose and the fire — she thought she had not anything 
else in the world. 

^^Miss Vanema, I never saw you idle so long a 
time before,” exclaimed Diantha, bringing in a peach 
basket piled with pea-pods and a milk-pan to shell 
the peas into. It^s lucky Mollie picked them last 
night. Mollie, spread a big newspaper down for 
me to throw the pods on.” 

I can shell peas,” said Olive. 

And spoil your finger-nails. This world hasnT 
hurt your hands yet.” 

^‘Nor her heart,” added Andrew, dropping his. 
book to fall into the talk, it has hurt nothing but 
the top of her head.” 

And thafs the prettiest thing about her,” Leila 
retorted. 


270 


OTHER FOLK, 


Mr. Croft, may I look at your book % ” asked 
Olive, with a smile toward Leila. 

He tossed it into her lap, and moved his chair 
near enough to Diantha^s to drop the*peas he shelled 
into her pan. 

The book would be something to hide her eyes 
in and to keep her fingers still. She had been so 
quiet the last two weeks and now her heart was all 
in a tumult ! It had come so near again, to be 
taken away. She had not stretched out her hand, 
but she had thought-— she had been sure that this 
something good was ready for her taking and keep- 
ing. And now ! If there were only some one to 
take up the burden for her for a little while — until 
she could catch her breath and learn how to bear 
it. She would have said to Leila, or to Allan, 

The Lord will take it up for you,^’ but there was 
the old anxious query ; how will He take it up ? 
How could He do it so that her heart would not ache 
so ! That other time, when she was a girl, it was 
only a girPs passing sorrow, but this time all the 
strength of her life was in it. The Lord hnoweth 
liowP Did He know how to take this away and 
stop the choking in her breath % He knew about 
it all the time, why did He let her dream about it; 


HER HIDDEN LIFE. 


271 


and hope for it ? Now she never could be sure that 
Allan cared at all, or ever had cared j there was 
only work ahead ! She had thought work was all. 
Why was not work all ? she asked herself, fiercely. 
Wliy could she not be content to-day to help Mrs. 
Agnew make that dress for Con, and to talk to Miss 
Hannah when she came up-stairs to her to-night, 
and to answer Leila^s questions, and to explain di- 
vision in algebra to Mollie, and to write to Miss 
Tunison and say she would see her before cold 
weather came. Why weren’t these things sufficient 
to fill her day and her life % Why should her 
thoughts wander away from the business of the 
hour ? And then she had her Bible study all to 
herself, and that was her word from the Lord. 
Could she be joyful, knowing that she was with Him 
to-day, as she was yesterday ? She was joyful 
yesterday j she was confident Allan would return as 
soon as his watch by his father’s bedside was over. 
And was that what made her joyful ? Was she not 
only so human, but so weakly human, that her joy 
was in this old friend, found again ? 

Was she so weak that she could not be joyful 
alone — ^with Christ ? Alone with Him in all the 
years that must come while Allan was the stay and 


272 


OTHER FOLK. 


staff of Ms fatTier^s house, and nothing at all to her f 
Diantha’s incisive voice broke in : It was the 

queerest wedding I ever attended. I would give all 
my old shoes to know how it ever happened at last ! 
But some folks do keep things to themselves. 
Folks say, and I believe it, that she was eighteen 
when she became engaged to him, and she was fifty- 
nine the day she married him. I never knew them 
when they wasMt keeping company ! They have 
walked home from Sunday-school together ever 
since I was big enough to go. Nobody knows the 
reason, but everybody surmises and has reasons of 
their own. It was a very sweet, quiet kind of a 
wedding, neither of them had father and mother 
and they acted like married folks and couldn^t be 
teased about anything. They had waited so long 
they might as well have waited forever ; it made a 
deal of talk and fun, and somebody said a girl 
under fifty-nine wasn’t old enough to be married.” 

They have escaped the discipline,” hazarded 
Andrew ; probably they were afraid of it.” 

Marriage seems to be the only kind of disci- 
pline that young folks are eager to rush into,” said 
Diantha. ^^I was engaged at sixteen^ and I thought 
I was made.” 


HER HIDDEN LIFE, 


273 


MoUie shan’t he/’ said Andrew. 

No 5 Mollie shall be twenty at least/’ replied 
Mollie’s mother. Married women need a great deal 
of everything to get along with ! The Lord has to 
be ready to help them out of all kinds of tight 
places their husband’s selfishness and thriftlessness 
and miserliness gets them into. As a class, I don’t 
admire husbands. As individuals, there are some 
excellent specimens.” 

Leila lifted her head from her pretty work and 
asked a question. 

How do you know when you have made a 
mistake ? Life isn’t like arithmetic ; there you 
know to a certainty the result of every step you 
take ; but in life result seems to have nothing to do 
with it — if by result one means one’s own happiness 
or success.” 

Perhaps one’s own happiness has nothing to do 
with it,” said Olive, in a hard voice. 

What has to do with it, then ? ” demanded Lei- 
la, impatiently. 

^^What one ought to do,” replied Olive, with 
less hardness. 

As if one ought to be married, or not to be 
married ! ” exclaimed Leila. I should as soon 


274 


OTHER FOLK, 


tliink of there being an ^ ought ^ as whether or not I 
eat peas for dinner.^^ 

I suppose Paul thought there was an ought in 
his dinner/^ Diantha^s voice hurried in. He said, 
whatsoever we do, whether we eat or drink, you 
know. And getting married is a great part of one^s 
dinner. 

Andrew laughed uproariously. 

Sometimes it is the whole of it,” he said, and 
if it is the whole of it, and one misses it, what 
then ? ” 

I suppose no marriage turns out wholly bad,” 
meditated Diantha 5 there’s the discipline 5 one 
has to learn that life isn’t all pleasure, somehow.” 

Mrs. Di, you make me shiver ! ” cried Leila. 

You may as well shiver about that as anything 
else,” said Diantha. Young folks have got to 
shiver over some truths. Suppose you were married 
to a man who would have his own way, even thim- 
der and lightning wouldn’t stop him, what would 
you do ? ” 

What does a man do when his wife is like 
that ? ” queried Andrew, thinking of this wife’s 
voice in heated contest in the kitchen early that 
morning and her remark, ^ David, I shall do as I 


HER HIDDEN- LIFE. 


275 


please, and if you want to stop me, youVe got to 
stop ray breath/ 

Women have to be like that in self-defence,” 
was her quick retort. 

May I be helped to steer clear of them,” 
exclaimed Andrew, devoutly. 

Allan Menzies has three women in his house 
who will have their own way,” proceeded Diantha, 
you can see that in half a day.” 

Then I^d put them in a boat and let them float 
out to sea,” declared Andrew, angrily. 

Perhaps he would be glad to,” laughed Leila, 
but they won^t float.” 

I don^t see how it is right for one life to take 
such a grip on another life and hold it still and 
keep it in one place, and hamper it and hinder it, 
and keep it from being its natural self! ” said 
Andrew, going on with his work of shelling 
peas. think those Menzies sisters are an out- 

rage.” 

What would you do ? ” inquired Diantha. 

I would make them do ! ” 

^^Then you would have to make them over. 
They have been waited on and spoiled ever since 
babyhood; Sarah Menzies says, ^ They all find it so 


276 


OTHER FOLK, 


hard to be poor/ and yet they were never rich. They 
must keep up a certain style, and they do it. They 
think Allan was born for their sakes, and he lets 
them think so, and will to the end of the chapter. 
Now that his engagement is broken, and it was a 
five-years^ grievance to them, they will own him 
soul and body.’’ 

I think he is weak,, then/’ said Leila. 

I told you so,” insisted Andrew; he has a weak 
mouth. He gets into a rut and he can’t get himself 
out. He will do anything for peace. I don’t 
believe it is so much love as it is laziness. I took 
his measure.” 

You ! ” laughed Leila. You lazy fellow ! ” 

I’m not lazy enough to let a girl fall in love 
with me and carry me off.” 

No, you are too lazy for any girl to do it.” 

I’m not too lazy to shell peas for your dinner.” 

The book was Olive’s refuge again. Was he 
weak ? Suppose he were ! Did he not all the more 
need a strong woman in his life! She had her 
money, and she could teach : she could help him ; 
she had helped somebody all her life ; she did not 
know how to live and not help somebody. 

If he would only come back and tell her that he 


HER HIDDEN LIFE. 


277 


needed her, that he could not do without herj were 
all men strong ? 

Had not Paul said another thing — so laboring, 
ye ought to support the weak^^? 

Ought not Allan support his sisters? Was he 
not remembering the words of the Lord Jesus ? 

There’s the other brother, Butler,” began Di- 
antha again, but he won’t. There’s a girl in 
the case; a girl that isn’t his sister. And Amzi 
won’t. There’s himself in the case. I don’t see 
how you can call Menzies either weak or lazy.” 

He can’t,” interrupted Leila ; he’s doing 
it to cover himself. I wish he had three 
sisters — ” 

to support him?” Andrew interrupted, 

complacently. 

You are a case of arrested development, my 
Cousin Andrew. But for your unfortunate money, 
you might be somebody. You are simply a saccu- 
lina, and you might haye been a crustacean. A 
sacculina — I don’t believe you know what it is — is 
only a mass of roots and films, and it might be a 
creature with six feet, and paddle through the water 
and live an independent life, providing for its own 
food and safety, and be a crustacean, in fact ; as it 


278 


OTHER FOLK, 


is, it is nothing but a parasite, living its worthless 
existence inside another creature.” 

Leila made pretty gestures with her long needle 
threaded with yellow wool, as she ended she 
pointed her needle at the tip of her cousin^s hand- 
some nose. 

Long live the sacculina ! ” he cried. If it 
only lives where it wants to.” 

I thought I had impressed you,” said Leila, 
with severity. 

You did, with a sense of your — ” 

What pesters me,” Diantha had kept herself 
quiet fully a minute, is how to save money. IVe 
got to live in the mean time.” 

Oh, no, you haven%” said Andrew ; we are 
not particular about that.” 

MoUie opened the kitchen door and put her 
head in, 

Mrs. Agnew says she doesn^t know how to fit 
Con’s dress. Miss Vanema, and is sorry to trouble 
you — ” 

I will come,” answered Olive, dropping her 
book and the rose in Leila’s lap. 

^^No 5 bring her and the dress and Con in here,’’ 
commanded Andrew. 


HER HIDDEN LIFE. 


279 


Hardly,” said Olive. Mrs. Di would not like 
her pretty dining-room to be invaded.” 

Mrs. Di did not reply that she would like it. 

Shall I, mother ? ” asked Mollie. 

Peas are clean dirt, and I can have them 
here,” said her mother. I don^t want those 
people to get into a habit of running in here and 
bringing things.” 

They haven’t much longer to stay,” pleaded 
Mollie, and Con never saw a fire on the hearth.” 

They are your Aunt Hannah’s boarders.” 

^^Miss Vanema isn’t,” muttered Mollie under 
her breath, as she withdrew her head. 

Olive was glad to be summoned ; she loved little 
Con, and this dress, fashioned out of a brown 
cashmere of her own, and trimned with velvet 
Leila had found in her own trunk, would make 
the child a pretty and becoming dress to wear to 
church all winter. 

While she was busy in a comer of the dining-room 
in the old house, Diantha’s dinner bell rang j Con 
stood watching the progress of the work, now and 
then touching the soft material and saying how 
pretty and warm it was. Wrapping herself in a 
cloak she stepped out into the rain again. That 


280 


OTHER FOLK. 


fire on the hearth would he comforting if she might 
have it alone j but the voices jarred, and the fre- 
quent laugh — her own life to-day was so far down 
and so far off that surface things touched her only to 
hurt her. 

Andrew would watch her with kindness in every 
tone and movement, Diantha would be profusely 
solicitous for her to partake of everything upon the 
loaded table, Leila would not notice her at all, 
Mollie would hover about her with the air of a bird 
over its young. 

Come up to my room,’’ invited and com- 
manded Leila, when the dinner was over. 

When they were within the shut door Leila said, 
standing on tip-toe and putting her arms about 
her, I want to put you on my bed and see you go 
to sleep.” 

Nonsense ! ” Olive said, energetically. I 
have a dozen things to do.” 

^‘That is one of them.” 

^^No ; it isn’t the half of one of them.” 

As she came up the stairs Olive had thought: I 
think if of one in Heaven the question were asked. 
What would you love most of all to do to-day ? the 
answer would be : To be with Christ, to see His 


HER HIDDEN LIFE. 


281 


face, to hear Him speaking to me, to have Him tell 
me something He would have me do. If that ques- 
tion were asked of me, on earth, to-day, would my 
answer he like that? 

What do you want to do then ? questioned 
Leila. 

I want to write a letter.’’ 

Was there ever a time when you didn’t want to 
write a letter ?” asked Leila impatiently. 

I don’t want to — when you will talk to me.” 

Then Leila relented and gave her a kiss. 

want to write to an old lady I knew once 
when I was a girl like you j she was like a mother 
to me ; she is very old now and remembers me and 
wishes to see me again. I was afraid she had for- 
gotten me. I shall be so glad to see her again, and 
her queer little red house. I would like to be as 
loving to her as she was to me. She is an old 
maid — oh, you heard Diantha speak of her — she is 
the aunt of Mr. Menzies that his sisters go to see.” 

And you knew him^ then, too ? ” asked Leila, 
in slow wonderment. 

Yes, I thought I did. Perhaps I do not. 
Perhaps I do not now. I think I feel people rather 
than know them. He may be weak 5 but I think he 


282 


OTHER FOLK. 


is strong. I don^t see how he can do any dif- 
ferent.^^ 

I do,” Leila burst out, he can make his sis- 
ters and brothers see that he will not have all his 
blood sucked out of him.” 

But,” Olive gave herself a mental steadiness as 
she spoke, everybody must live for somebody. If 
he has no one else to live for, I do not see why he 
should not love to give his life to them — his own 
blood.” 

But if it happens that he has some one else.” 

That is a question,” still steadying herself, 
and it certainly is a question how right that would 
be.” 

^^If they were ill, or mentally unfitted, or if 
there were no work in this world for women to do — 
and then the two other brothers, what is their obli- 
gation % ” 

One is young.” 

Young! I am young 5 I am not twenty-one, 
and not a manj I could support myself to-day 
And that Butler has no more right than Allan 
has j the girl Butler wishes to marry has no more 
right to him than the girl Allan wishes to marry.” 

No 5 if there were some one.” 


HER HIDDEN LIFE, 


283 


And then in amazement, in dismay, Olive be- 
thought herself and stopped. Was this girl plead- 
ing for Allan’s rights, the girl he wished to marry ? 
Had these few weeks wrought this mischief? Was 
there some one else — would there always be some 
one else pushing in between herself and something 
she wished for ? 

The world xms full; hut was not God in the 
world ? About that one pool of Bethesda were five 
porches and a multitude in them waiting, and it 
was only the first who stepped down that was 
healed. Would she want to push, and jostle, and 
step down ? 

You think there can’t be any one so soon ? 
Perhaps there can’t. And he is not very attrac- 
tive, so middle-aged and quiet and bookish, with no 
money and no position ; I should not think a girl 
would be attracted. Middle-aged people have 
other things to think of ; marriage belongs to a 
younger time ; he told me one day that my age 
was the best time for forming friendships, that 
young hearts loved easily ; it was the natural time 
for choosing and love was more unselfish. A 
Scotchman told him that in Scotland girls married 
at seventeen, it was not thought too young; twenty- 


A 


284 


OTHER FOLK. 


three was the average age in the United States, and 
he was not sorry it was so young. Men were 
happier and better, too, that married before they 
were as old as he is, and happy homes were the 
safeguards and blessings of the world. I do not 
think his own home is so very happy, do you f 

I don^t know,^’ said Olive, he talks so little 
about himself.’’ 

I wish he might have one now ; he has been 
good to other people all his life. I don’t like to 
have unselfish people wait until they get to heaven 
to be happy.” 

I don’t believe they do,” said Olive smiling. 

But I mean to have what they want most, what 
they naturally want.” 

You mean the sweet, unspoiled nature — ” 

I don’t know what I mean ! I want this world 
to be a happy place ; I don’t want people to spoil 
other people’s lives.” 

As Eve spoiled Adam’s.” 

And men and women have ever since, x sup- 
pose ; that’s what I don’t like.” 

It would be queer if you did,” Olive laughed. 

Leila discovered several letters in her writing 
tablet that had been waiting through a sunshiny 


HER HIDDEN LIFE. 


285 


week to be answered, and sbe sat down with a 
gloomy determination to fill them with her present 
views of life. 

On second thoughts, Olive did not write to Miss 
Tunison j she did not care to have Jane Menzies 
read her letter and write a report of it home to her 
brothers and sisters f to bring herself fully back to 
the old lady’s memory of that summer she intended 
to mention several incidents, and she might wish to 
bring in the name of the other one who made it an 
ever-to-be-remembered and thankful-for time of 
work and rest. Now it seemed as if it were the 
pivot on which all her life was turning. 

I don’t see why,” Leila sighed over her 
letter. 

Olive was at work upon the sleeves of Con’s 
dress, she took no audible notice of the sigh. 
Leila had a way of answering her own questions 
when she was left to herself. 

Did she see why ? 

Although Christ loves the least ” among His 
brethren so dearly that He counts service given to 
them given to Himself, yet He suffers them to be 
naked, and sick, and hungry, and in prison. And 
then she saw why. It was that the service might 


286 


OTHER FOLK. 


be given j it was for the sake of those who loved 
Him and gave for His sake. 

And those who could not give, the sick, the naked, 
the hungry, and the prisoners, gave themselves to be 
given to, for His sake. They could not give for His 
sake j not clothing, nursing, food, or comfort in 
prison ; but they could give their bodies to suifer, 
as they did if they accepted hlis will in the sorrow 
and privation He sent. 

For His sake, then, would one choose to give or 
to receive % Would one choose to suffer or to give ? 
He said it was more blessed to give than to re- 
ceive; those who gave had the blessing of the 
Father. Had those who gave to their own this 
blessing % Because your own, was one the less 
Christ’s own ? Should one pass by one’s own, 
leaving him naked, sick, hungry, in prison I 

Suppose one’s own were idle, selfish ? The 
words were naked, hungry ; how did one come to 
be that after one was grown, but through misfor- 
tune or fault 1 Not the wisest, strongest of His 
brethren, but the least,” perhaps not the ones you 
admired most, and loved the best. 

There was her father ! But she did not like to 
think of her father, excepting with tenderest pity j 


HER HIDDEN LIFE, 


287 


and her mother, who never made one effort to grow 
stronger. Her mother was discouraged j people 
said she died because she lost heart to live. Her 
marriage was her life-long disappointment j how 
often she had told her that she hoped she would 
never marry a poor man and be miserable. 

Poor mother ! poor father ! she sighed over her 
sewing. But they were both penitent before they 
died ; and their bitterness had not embittered her 
life. But it had shadowed it. 

Olive Vanema/’ cried the gL], bending over 
the writing tablet, there^s not a bit of selfishnes.3 
in you.” 

Was that because it had all been suffered out ? 

There has been a great deal this very day. I 
have been full of selfishness and murmuring and 
ingratitude.” 

Leila laughed. 

I^d like to live in you for awhile. Oh, there 
comes that Andrew ! ” she cried, discontentedly. 

He^s splendid to have for a walking stick, but I 
do like to stand him in a corner when the walk is 
done.” 

He tapped, then opened the door. 

Do come in,” his cousin grumbled. I was 


288 


OTHER FOLK. 


just saying something horrid about you, but Pm 
glad to see you all the same. You were invented 
to spoil our talks. 

You were invented to spoil mine. If it were 
not for you, I should have an hour with Olive once 
in a while.’^ 

<^l>m going away the first of August anyway. 
Papa writes that I must. Hedl come to me at Long 
Branch. He wants ten days of rest.’’ 

The first of August is a long way off.” 

Won’t you go, too ! You haven’t been very 
happy here.” 

I told you you had interfered,” he said, good- 
humoredly. Miss Olive, where are you going f ” 

Must I go ? I am becoming a fixture.” 

Not here ! At Diantha’s ! ” he exclaimed, in 
pretended horror. I thought you were going to. 
work.” 

Must I go to do it ? ” she inquired, playfully. 

Not with that woman and child on your hands, 
beside several other people. You have a decided 
talent for ignoring your friends and taking up the 
needy. I wish I were a poor woman with a little 
girl, and the little girl, too.” 

You are womanish enough,” replied Leila. 


HER HIDDEN LIFE, 


289 


That is a recommendation in your eyes.^^ 

Not in Olive^s/^ 

She is on the side of weakness ; especially 
weak men/’ he said with a light, scornful laugh. 

Olive colored, and he would have begged her 
pardon, had he dared j the next time he spoke to 
her his manner was especially kind j he was a self- 
ish man, but he nearly attained unselfishness in his 
attitude toward Olive Vanema. Leila believed that 
Olive did not understand half his possibilities. 

suppose,” he began, meditatively, after a pause, 
during which he had been breaking the well-sharp- 
ened point of one of Leila’s drawing pencils, 
that I might marry one of the Miss Menzies, 
pension a second and get the third one a position 
as housekeeper in the family of a wealthy widower. 
But there’s Amzi. I am beat on Amzi.” 

believe there’s something poetical in his lazi- 
ness,” said Leila. Poets love to fish.” 

Because it gives them time to think up their 
rhymes,” guessed Andrew. I think I shall con- 
stitute myself a committee of one and make a pro- 
cession of myself and head it and call on that 
young man in one of his leisure half hours and find 
him an occupation.” 


290 


OTHER FOLK. 


It would give you something to do/^ observed 
Leila. 

‘^Miss Olive, what would you like to make of 
me % ’’ he questioned in his winning voice. 

She looked up into his gentle, sunny-brown eyes 
and smiled. After all there was a witchery about 
him 5 what did make this good-for-nothing so lov- 
able % 

I would rather take Amzi.’’ 

You can catch him young.’^ 

And I can^t catch you at all.^^ 

No,^’ he said, gravely, not to your satis- 
faction. ^ Honest labor wears a lovely face ’ to all 
the world but me. I honestly wish I loved work. 
I would give up my worthless income if I could 
love work as heartily as this young fellow, Hiram 
Anderson. He said he wouldn’t take ten thousand 
a year to be as idle as I am, and I told him I had 
to be satisfied with less than half that. The fact is 
Fm not a bad man, if I were I could- spend money 
and have a glorious time, like a fellow I know who 
is running to destruction at a break-neck pace. I 
haven’t even expensive tastes j I do not like par- 
ticularly to spend money ; I think I rather enjoy 
saving my money and knowing that this year Pve 


HER HIDDEN LIFE. 


291 


added to mj little pile by not spending my income: 
there^s no incentive strong enough to overcome my 
aversion to work — no pursuit allures me ; if I were 
a woman I should enjoy housekeeping and society. 
You said true, my little cousin, I am womanish. 
If I were a philanthropist, Olive is thinking, I 
could find work and pleasure in one ; I am not un- 
selfish enough for that ; I would rather berate good 
men for letting the world ache with its sin and 
misery than lift my little finger to help them. I 
like to be here because you girls are here ; I can 
hang around till frost and then I want the luxury 
of my city home. Mollie amuses me, too. I 
expect I shall be married some idle day to be 
amused.^^ 

You know you love to tramp,^’ said Leila. 

When somebody will tramp with me. I like 
companionship about as well as I like anything. 
The pity of it is that my money is not the kind of 
gold to buy the kind I want.” 

You dear boy,” exclaimed Leila, moved into 
caressing his ear with the tip of her finger. 

Olive, what would you like to make of me 1 ” 
was thinking of something fine in an old 
letter; a letter as old as that hard worker, Paul, 


292 


OTHER FOLK, 


who first gave their own selves’ — without that 
jirst^ I don’t wonder at the rest of it.” 

^‘Neither do I,” he said solemnly, but even 
that is something a man must do himself.” 

I cannot make that of you.” 

Would you if you could ? ” 

I would rather you would do it yourself.” 

Speaking of Paul’s letters,” said Leila, ^^reminds 
me that I read that for a manuscript of the Gospels 
twenty-five thousand dollars has been refused. It is 
known as the Evangelarium ^ it is written in letters 
of gold on purple vellum j it was written in 670.” 

That would help me believe — the mere fact of 
somebody believing twenty hundred years ago 
seems to help me. I believe seeing the original 
manuscript would do it,” Andrew said in a tone as if 
reasoning with himself. 

You make me think of something so sad, 
Andrew,” Leila dropped her pen. Poor Keats in 
his terrible sufferings tried to get a copy of Jeremy 
Taylor ; he said if he could read that he would 
believe. Shelley and Hunt had taken his belief in 
God away from him. He was in Kome, and the 
book could not be found there.” 

Hadn’t he a Bible ? ” asked Andrew. 


HER HIDDEN LIFE. 


293 


Not the original manuscript/^ said Leila, in her 
quietest tone. 

Oh/^ said Olive, to think of hunting for 
Jeremy Taylor when one is dying ! And one can 
have the Holy Spirit for the asking.’^ 

Will that make you believe ? asked Andrew. 

Christ said He would lead us into all truth,’^ 
Olive, answered j ^^and I know He does — every 
hour of the day.” 

Silence fell for a long while 5 Leila took up her 
pen again ; she was writing to her father : 

I do believe this summer is good for Andrew. I 
never knew him unsatisfied before. What will stir 
him into manly life ? I cannot but think there is 
something worth having in him. But Olive will 
never marry him ; I am more and more assured of 
it. She is the kind to marry a man to bring out 
the best in him j but something in her keeps her 
from doing it. Perhaps it is the story you 
told me of her father and her poor discouraged 
mother.” 

Andrew watched her flying pen ; this girl cousin 
of his was his admiration. 

Leila, do you know when Jesus Christ is first 
mentioned in profane history 1 I would like to 


294 


OTHER FOLK. 


study His life from a standpoint outside of Script- 
ure history.^’ 

^^What for? The history of the Jews will tell 
you what unbelievers say of Him.” 

I do not know that I can explain myself. I 
would like to think of Him as a man — as real as 
Alexander, or Napoleon, and then a man not like 
them, and then the man He was, and then as 
thinking it no robbery to claim to be the Son of 
God, God manifest in the flesh of man — I think 
that will help me.” 

He said “ help me,” as simply as a child. He 
had no intellectual pride ; he had taken no rank in 
college above that of the average student ; he told 
Leila that she had twice his brains. And Leila 
believed him. 

IVe heard papa say that Tacitus contains the 
earliest mention by any profane writer j he said 
that in the nineteenth year of Tiberius one 
Christ suffered death by the sentence of the 
procurator, Pontius Pilate.” 

Only ^ one Christ^ to him,” said Andrew mus- 
ingly. Suppose that was all the world knew. I 
would like to find every thing of that kind there is 
and write it down and imagine what life would be 


HER HIDDEN LIFE, 


295 


to me if that were all I knew; and what life would 
be to me if that were all I could know. I do repeat 
the Lord’s prayer every night ; I wouldn’t like to 
go to sleep without that. And one night I was in a 
hotel in Russia — I had had symptoms of cholera — I 
went to sleep saying over and over ^Now I lay me 
down to sleep.’ ” 

Then you wished you were home, a clerk on a 
thousand a year, with no money to go tramping 
and no symptoms of cholera on our inhospitable 
shores ! ” said Leila, tantalizingly. A poor fellow 
can get rich, but a rich fellow can’t get poor.” 

Leila, I am determined ! I am going home to 
get a humble clerkship.” 

Don’t, for pity’s sake,” she protested, go into 
business. Grive men business. In England the 
heir of the millionaire does not lead an idle life : 
why should a little money spoil you ? You needn’t 
think you are leading the life of an English 
aristocrat, because you are not. The husband of 
one of Queen Victoria’s daughters has a brother a 
tea merchant in Liverpool.” 

Perhaps I aspire to French idleness then ; a 
well-to-do Frenchman prefers uselessness and idle- 
ness to being a tea merchant,” 


296 


OTHER FOLK. 


If it^s only an aspiration^ I rejoice in it. I 
didn^t know you aimed at anything besides shift- 
lessness.’’ 

Leila, you are cross to-day,” he reproved, 
sweetly ; there’s a box of chocolate creams in my 
room ; you may have them if you’ll take the trou- 
ble to get them.” 

You precious boy ! ” she exclaimed, rising and 
flying off. 

Olive, tell me, do you admire Menzies for being 
such a fool as to let that girl marry him, willing or 
unwilling % ’’ asked Andrew, very earnestly. 

She didn’t,” answered Olive, composedly. 

But she might j it was going on.” 

It would have come to its own natural break- 
ing, in this case, I think. It did not make him 
marry her, it simply kept him from marrying some 
one else.” 

But you do not admire him for it ? ” he per- 
sisted. 

No ; I do not admire him for it.” 

I wanted to make you say that.” 

But you know — ” thinking it deceptive not to 
undeceive him, some weaknesses have an attrac- 
tion for us 5 I acknowledge he was weak.” 


HER HIDDEN LIFE, 


297 


But you love him for 

If the girl were my sister, my little sister, I 
think I should love him for being so gentle with 
her/' 

For deceiving her ! " he answered, contempt- 
uously. 

For not opening her eyes rudely to see that 
she had deceived herself. Her illness prevented 
what he would have done in another case 5 you 
take no account of that." 

That is true," he admitted, he couldn't be a 
brute." 

can easily believe it all — life is very sad. 

The sad viscissitude of things ' somebody puts it. 
And if it were not as glad as it is sad, who would 
want to live ? " 

Often I do not. I am weary of lite e^^en when 
the sun is shining." 

Leila and the chocolates did not appear j Olive 
forgot her work. 

I cannot be glad of permitted evils, not at the 
time I am suifering j but I am glad of the blessed- 
ness that is brought out of things permitted. Wis- 
dom wills the blessings and permits the suffer- 
ing.” 


298 


OTHER FOLK, 


Wisdom permits me to lead a useless life^ then, 
not wills it/^ he returned banteringly. 

You will it.’’ 

I don’t j I don’t will anything.” 

‘^Martin Luther said no man was wicked because 
the unclean birds sometimes lit on his head 5 he 
was bad only when he tamely suffered them to 
build their nests in his hair.” 

Andrew laughed lightly and ran his fingers 
through his handsome hair. 

Tamely suffers ! You think that is the story 
of my life.” 

Oh, no, perhaps you resist and suffer all the 
same. I don’t know how you resist.” 

Olive, you doYi)t, I resist the temptations of 
what you call idleness.” 

Andrew, it is what we have to do, and that we 
have something to do, in this world, that makes ex- 
istence in this world endurable. When Adam was 
driven from Paradise, he was blessed with the ne- 
cessity of eating brow-sweating bread.” 

But he had to dress the Garden while he was 
in it ; wasn’t that work ? ” Andrew argued. 

^^Not the hard kind, not the kind he needed 
after something came between him and God.” 


HER HIDDEN LIFE. 


299 


You think there^s something between me and 
God/^ he said, almost too low for her to catch the 
words. 

You know that better than I can tell you.^^ 

I know there is. And it is more than what I 
do, it is what I am; what I was born you will say ; 
my inheritance from that same hard-working, diso- 
bedient first man.^^ 

It had been Olive’s inspiration all her life to have 
a great deal expected of her ; Andrew’s growth 
had been stunted because the few around him gave 
all, expecting nothing in return. mother said 

he was all she had left, and he was a disappoint- 
ment to her. 

^^Well, when the time comes,” he remar'ked, 
with his usual way of thinking the time must come 
to him, and he had to stand still and wait for it. 

^^It comes all the sooner when we go out to meet 
it,” said Olive. 

His mind to-day was a revelation to her ; with 
his own hand he was opening the door to his real 
self ; still it was not easy to speak the next words j 
but she spoke them — aloud, and not to herself. 

^^From the first day — thy words were heard, was 
said to a man a long time ago. But they were not 


300 


OTHER FOLK, 


answered the first day. The time came after three 
full weeks, but he prayed the first day.^^ 

Praying isn^t all,” was the sharp reply. 

What is all ? ” he asked, humbly. 

For you f I do not know. Different answers 
were given to different people who came to 
Christ.” 

I wish you could tell me.” 

I am glad I cannot.” 

I don^t see why.” 

Because then you would be — ^you might, be 
satisfied with what I said.” 

Who can tell me now ? ” 

Do you remember what Peter said : ^ Lord, to 
whom shall we go f Thou hast the words of eternal 
life.'” 

Olive, no one believes it, but I am a hungry- 
hearted man. I don’t believe Leila understands it. 
I believe this is a hungry world.” 

I know it is.” 

Diantha’s little trot was in the upper hall ; Leila 
had left her door open. 

Miss Vanema, I know you like buttermilk. I 
brought you some.” 


HER HIDDEN LIFE. 


301 


She stood at the door with a pitcher and three 
glasses on a tray. 

Mrs. Di,” exclaimed Andrew, rising to take the 
tray, you would disturb a dying man to eat and 
drink.” 

You don’t look reduced to that,” she retorted. 

Leila ! Leila ! ” shouted Andrew, come and 
bring the chocolates. Mrs. Di has come for 
some.” 

Mrs. Di seated herself without further invitation 
and munched the chocolates for half an hour ; Olive 
sewed and let Andrew make his mischievous and 
Leila her sharp repartees. 

I left Mollie buried in that book of Miss Mu- 
loch’s you gave her, Mr. Croft, My Mother and I. 
I took it for granted that it was safe reading.” 

It’s a bewitching title,” said motherless Leila, 
but I’ve heard it urged against her books that they 
were discouraging to girls because there no such 
sympathetic, understanding-without-a-word mothers 
outside of books.” 

Olive remembered when she had discovered that 
her mother was not like the mothers in some books, 
and had despised her in the measure in which she 
was not congenial and inspiring. 


302 


OTHER FOLK. 


Afterward she had despised herself for not being 
a good daughter — not like the daughters in 
books. 

That comes by nature/’ said Diantha, selecting 
two large chocolates out of the box. I believe I 
understand Mollie before she understands herself. 
I have forbidden her to study so much with Hiram, 
Mr. Croft ; he’s a good principled young man, but 
I don’t want him to become attached to her.” 

^^She has been the making of him, Mrs. Van 
Der Zee,” answered Andrew. ^^He told me he 
first began to want to be somebody for her sake.” 

Diantha’s face darkened. 

She doesn’t think it. She’s as innocent of it 
as a lamb. David could no more find anybody to 
fill his place than he could to fill Mollie’s. He’s 
the object of strife between us. With David’s 
rheumatism he’s got to have a faithful man. He’s 
laid up in winter, as useless as a wet rag.” 

That is what sweet girls are for, Mrs. Di,” ob- 
served Andrew, that’s what you were for.” 

One of Diantha’s firm beliefs was that she had 
been the making of her husband; she softened 
visibly and helped herself out of the box Leila had 
left in her lap. 


HER HIDDEN LIFE. 


303 


There’s so much to do in this world/’ she re- 
marked, cleansing her finger-tips with her lips and 
thinking of the clams that must be opened for 
supper. 

And fifteen hundred millions to do it,” laughed 
Leila. You needn’t worry, Mrs. Di. It will all 
get done.” 

Not if I sit here talking.” 

That’s a part of it,” said Andrew, woman’s 
part.” 

Oh, that reminds me ! ” 

Leila sprang up and got pencil and paper. 

I want to show you — learned it ; the Esqui- 
maux have one word to mean He goes away has- 
tily and exerts himself to write. Papa says my 
brain is a museum ; and this is a curiosity ; here 
it is, in English letters.” 

She planced a sheet of paper on Olive’s lap, rest- 
ing it on a book, and wrote slowly in plain letters — 
AGLEKKIGEARTORASUAENISARPOK. 

Well, I declare ! ” exclaimed Diantha, that 
doesn’t make it any easier to talk.” 

It’s something to know one word of Esquimaux,” 
said Andrew. Leila, you were a born smat- 
terer,” 


304 


OTHER FOLK. 


Then I attain what I was born for, and that is 
something to be congratulated upon/^ she laughed 
uneasily, crumpling the paper in her hand. 

It was disheartening for her father and Andrew 
to think so, when she believed she was nothing if 
not thorough. 

Diantha went away with th ’;ray and the empty 
pitcher. 

What a spider she is ! ” Andrew exclaimed. 

She^s about fifteen inches around.^^ 

She would do for a London shop girl,” said 
Leila, where each girl has to squeeze her waist 
into a required number of inches to give a look of 
elegance to the place j from eighteen to twenty \ 
fat or lean the elegance must be accomplished.” 

Did you know that the word waist is derived 
from a word which signifies pressure or to squeeze 1 ” 
asked Olive, bringing herself back from thinking 
of Andrew and his hidden life. 

What a commentary on womankind! ” said 
Andrew. And oh, what a creature this Diantha 
is! She prays that the kettle may boil and is all 
the time putting out the fire.” 

Andrew, that^s the best description of any- 
body you ever gave in your life. I am proud of 


HER HIDDEN LIFE. 


305 


you/’ cried Leila, delighted. I know she prays ; 
she says she prays in secret.” 

Andrew threw himself back upon the lounge j 
Olive persisted in sewing, he thought her interest 
in it was pretended, that she might not have to 
talk. When she was silent, how silent she was ! 
In the silence — for Leila wrote silently, and Andrew 
was grim, and pulled the ends of his moustache and 
would not say what he was thinking in an audience of 
two — Olive’s thoughts grew ; Andrew reminded her 
of the young ruler ; she did not know what became 
of him after he refused to become one of the disci- 
ples. Was his call not as clear and imperative as 
Peter’s or John’s ? Come and follow me ! Was 
Andrew called and was he refusing 1 Or was his 
unrest, his longing, his hunger, his dull sense of 
being unsatisfied, an evidence that he was called ? 
Or was it only the unrest of his idleness ? Last 
winter when he sat on a high stool at book-keeping 
all day long and out at evening entertainments three 
evenings in a week, he had shown nothing of this. 
This country life was giving him time to think, and 
surely to think was good for him. It was folly to 
be hard upon him because he was not earning his 
bread and butter. But then she wanted him to be 


306 


OTHER FOLK. 


interested in the bread and butter of some one else, 
or in what bread and butter stood for. Was it not 
as far astray in the Lord’s eyes to worship worlc 
as to live in idleness ? Her ideal transfigured and 
shaped her real life. Her own life was more to 
her than anything in earth or Heaven except the 
life of Christ. 

Olive, look up j you look too contented with 
yourself/’ Andrew implored. Look up and tell 
me what I was bom for, and I promise you, with 
all my heart and soul, I will do it.” 

Leila raised her eyes and listened. 

You were born,” Olive was afraid to go on, 
but, breathing a prayer for the truth, she went on : 

to maize yourself something different from what you 
were loornP 

I declare,” he said, vexed, you would make 
a famous oracle. But I have given you my 
word.” 

She did not so much mind making herself dis- 
agreeable ; but she was determined not to make 
the truth disagreeable ; not any more disagreeable 
than it was in itself. 

The next day Andrew asked Diantha for a 
lunch and started off early on one of his long 


HER HIDDEN LIFE. 


307 


tramps. He returned at nightfall, moody and 
silent. 

Olive was ashamed of herself that she had never 
spoken of him to the Lord; she had been dis- 
couraged about him and had let him alone. She 
had not loved him well enough to pray for him, or 
pitied him sorely enough ; she had been confident 
there was nothing in herself to help his growth. 

She did not have any sympathy with weak men. 
Leila told her that there was where she failed in 
compassion. 

The day following the tramp was the Sabbath ; 
he asked her to go to church with him, saying he 
would take Leila, also, and Miss Hannah. In his 
carriage there were seats for four when he chose 
to put the second seat in ; he was doing something 
in earnest. 

In the school-house a mile distant a Sunday 
school was held in the afternoon; one Sunday 
afternoon she and Leila had taken the hot, dusty 
walk, and she had taught a class of girls. She re- 
fused to take it regularly ; she was not yet strong 
enough to be sure of her strength. Perhaps the 
thing she did instead was something not easily 
understood— Diantha certainly did not under- 


308 


OTHER FOLK. 


stand it ; slie helped Hannah with the dinner dishes, 
so that Sarah Lib could go to Sunday school, and 
she dressed the ailing mother in her clean calico 
wrapper and brushed her hair, that Mary Jane 
might have the time to road a chapter in her 
own room, and she set the tea-table and made the 
fire and put on the tea-kettle, that Maria might 
stay with a friend after Sunday school and attend 
prayer meeting in the school-house in the even- 
ing. 

Was it keeping Sunday when she was doing 
housework that she did not do on other days ? Di- 
antha told Lucy Ann that she made it an excuse not 
to go to Sunday school. 

She isn^t spiritual minded, any way you can 
put it. I believe she loves that work — on 
Sunday.’’ 

On several hot Sabbaths that she was busy in 
the old kitchen, and often, one service found way 
for another, it was an inspiration to her for the first 
time to be glad that Christ gave physical healing 
on the Sabbath. 

She was not strong enough for the midday walk 
and the teaching, — (had Andrew known that she 
cared to go to the school-house, she knew how glad 


HER HIDDEN LIFE. 


809 


he would be to take her, but could she ask a favor 
of him ? ) — after the long drive to the church in the 
morning, but taking it leisurely, the work in the 
kitchen was not too wearisome, and then — she was 
giving a Sabbath pleasure to these tired women. 
Perhaps at the school-house they would hear what 
she would love to speak to them. She hoped some 
of the physical comfort she gave struck all the way 
in ; her cheery way of doing it certainly did strike 
all the way in. 

Miss Vanema,’^ protested dhe mild old mother 
one of these Sunday afternoons, I’m afraid 
you’ll get all worn out. Rubbing my feet is the 
last straw j but it does put my life into me.” 

Oh, I don’t mind being worn out,” said Olive, 
brightly. You know we shall be made all over 
new by and by.” 

Shall we ? Really ? ” The old voice spoke 
with a new interest. I’d like to be young ; I get 
so tired of being oldj I don’t like to be in the way; 
pa and me, we don’t. And the girls are such 
pushers / pa and me are always being pushed off 
while they rush about and work.” 

^^Do you know what I was thinking last night?” 
Olive began; her tone was so eager that the old head 


310 


OTHER FOLK, 


lifted itself to listen. I was watching you two 
old folks. I was thinking how lovely it was to be 
through your work — you two have worked so 
hard, you have done so much for your children — 

That’s true. Pa and me has/’ with a gleam of 
placid contentment. 

Perhaps you worked for them more than you 
prayed for them.” 

The suggestion was like a breath in its gentleness. 

Well, I haven’t ever been any great hand to 
pray for other folks. I was so cross and spiteful 
and tired out I had all I could do to get my own 
sins forgiven.” 

But some people don’t pray for their own sins 
to be forgiven, and we are so sorry for them. 
What I thought was that you two dear old people 
have this resting time to pray in. You don’t have 
to be careful and troubled about your work any 
more, or doing for the girls, and you can be so 
quiet and loving and pray. Let me see, six girls ! 
One for each day in the week, and every one of 
them for Sunday.” 

Well, that would be nice,” a smile stealing 
over the wrinkles, it would give me some- 
thing to think about.” 


HER HIDDEN LIFE. 


311 


When Christ was on earth fathers and mothers 
went to Him to plead for their children. Don^t 
you remember ? 

Yes, I know ; IVe read it. I used to read 
when 1 had good eyes. The girls are too taken up 
to read much to me, and I forget it — I tried to 
think of a Bible verse in the night when I couldn’t 
sleep and I couldn’t get hold of it.” 

But you can always think how forgiving and 
pitiful the Lord is.” 

So I can. That’s easy.” 

And you can always think of your girls.” 

That’s easy, too.” 

You remember John, the disciple Jesus loved.’’ 

Oh, yes,” in a contented, purring voice, for the 
young, warm hands rubbing her feet gave her a 
sense of comfort all through her worn-out body. 

He was on an island, on the Lord’s day, and he 
had a vision of Heaven, and he saw a beautiful 
thing : the prayers of all saints offered with incense ; 
they were offered on a golden altar before God’s 
throne. Think of your prayers being there.” 

I don’t know how to say much.” 

You can say ^ Our Father, bless Mary Jane 
and give her thy Holy Spirit, for Jesus sake.’ ” 


312 


OTHER FOLK. 


Oh, yes ; I can say that. I can say that about 
every one of them, and pa, too. I shan^t forget pa.^^ 
That’s the best gift God gives.” 

The old lips muttered sleepily ; as she dozed, 
Olive sitting at her feet, heard the whispered prayer 
for Dianth.” 

There were glad tears in Olive’s eyes ; as long 
as God taught her, she could teach somebody. 

They were sitting at the bedroom window ; it 
was a breathless afternoon, not a leaf stirred in the 
orchard j with a tattered palm- leaf fan Olive fan- 
ned her as she slept. 

I wonder if my mother ever prayed for me,’? 
she sighed over the old days. Poor mother ! ” 

After a lifetime of worry and work, this old life 
was going out in peace 5 there was something sweet 
in the sleeping face j something so sweet that 
Olive thought she might have been like Mollie 
sixty years ago. 

Death was the open door through which this soul 
would escape from the prison of the flesh j the 
open door — with youth and an endless new life 
on the other side of it j like this narrow window 
opening into all the sweetness of the summer j who 
could be afraid ? 


HER HIDDEN LIFE, 


313 


Driving home from church this morning 
Andrew said he was afraid to die 5 he had said it 
with a shiver. 

Are you afraid to live again ? she asked. 

No one would be afraid if that life were 
already begun,” he said. 

He was in her hammock this afternoon with a 
book j in a camp-chair, Leila was sitting near him, 
writing to her father. She was a good reporter 5 
she was reporting the morning’s sermon. Mrs. 
Agnew had taken Con down to the brook, each 
had a Bible ; Con asked Miss Vanema what to 
read and Olive advised the beautiful story of 
Kuth. 

We’ll each read a verse aloud,” said Con. 
like that because it’s about in the country.” 

As Olive sat drawing on the coarse stockings 
Hannah knitted for her mother in the winter even- 
ings, Diantha’s little trot sounded on the bare kitchen 
floor. 

Of all things ! ” she exclaimed, looking in at 
the door. You sitting here with ma! In 
this close, hot room ! You must like old folks. 
Mother is so hard to get along with. She can 
knit counterpanes — small squares, you know — and 


314 


OTHER FOLK. 


we girls put them together, but she has knit seven, 
and they are so heavy to wash, and weVe got more 
than we can use, so I told Lucy Ann we wouldn^t 
buy her any more stuff and that would put an end 
to it.’^ 


XV. 


A FULL WORLD. 

“ The rays of happiness, like those of light, are colorless 
when unbroken.” 

The second week of August found Leila still at * 
Diantha^s ; an accumulation of work delayed her 
father and she persistently refused to go to the sea- 
side without him. Andrew took long tramps and 
longer drives about the country, and picked up a 
book whenever he saw one that his cousin and 
Olive were interested in. Leila told him she still 
had hope of his mental development, much more 
than she had of Miss Olive^s^ for she seemed to es- 
chew all sorts of literature and was determined to be- 
take herself to the womanish occupation of making 
things for Miss Hannah and little Con Agnew. 

The Agnews stayed on, to everybody s surprise, and 
to their own 5 their three weeks ran into five, and 

then they had to go j Miss Peters wrote to Mrs. 

315 


316 


OTHER FOLK. 


Agnew that her friend was very sorry that she 
could not keep her longer in the country, but hoped 
strongly to send her and Con another summer. 

Miss Hannah mourned over the letter and told 
Mrs. Agnew if the girls ” were willing she would 
keep her another five weeks, board or no board j 
but she had to do as every body said, and she 
wouldn^t ever forget the good time she had had. 

The afternoon Hiram drove them to the station, 
she went up to Olivers room to tell her again how 
rosy Con^s cheeks were, and how mnch better her 
cough was, and how Mrs. Agnew, poor thing, said 
she hadn^t slept such sleeps since she was a child. 
And she had gone home ten years younger. 

And I’ve learned something. Miss Vanema,’’ 
continued Miss Hannah, standing with her fingers 
on the door-latch; ^‘IVe learned to be content 
with my own home and people. Her life is such a 
story of hardship! She did me good in other 
ways too. I’d like to know who the friend is that 
paid her board and tell her that she had done some- 
thing for poor old hard-hearted me as well.^’ 

That afternoon Leila said to Olive, as she 
watched her fingers at work on something she was 
making over,^^ for Con, to be sent to her in a box 


A FULL WORLD. 


317 


with several other things, ^^You do so much for 
people, I should think you would expect something 
from them.” 

do j I expect them to be glad.” 

In these days Olive took life with such good 
cheer that good cheer came with it. 

When I was a little girl,” said Leila, I 
found a little bit of a love story in a most unex- 
pected place.” 

It was not anywhere on this earth then,” An- 
drew remarked, or you were too little to expect 
it.” 

It was in ^ilgrim^s Progress , she continued, 
after a severe glance at him, and the story of Mercy. 
Some man, not a Pilgrim, I am certain, found her 
very attractive until he learned that the needle in 
her hand was always sewing for poor people, 
and then he decided that she would not be a good 
wife for him j she was too extravagant. That little 
bit of human nature, Mercy having some one to 
admire her, made the book very real to me, and 
impressed the more serious parts. I was about 
ten 5 but I appreciated it. I think afterward she 
married Christianas oldest son, Matthew, or he may 
not have been the oldest. I think I intended a 


moral when I began my tale j please find it, visible, 
although not appended/^ 

take it to heart/^ commented Andrew*, and 
shall immediately follow that worldly man’s ex- 
ample and take myself 

Olive, what do you find f asked Leila. She 
was on the grass at Olivers feet. 

Olive was in her camp-chair on the door-stone, 
it was pleasant to come back to it again j she 
persuaded herself that she was taking up the 
thread of her life, with the thread that Allan 
Menzies had woven in, out of sight, or so twisted in 
that only a darker or brighter effect was visible, 
with the cause of it concealed. To herself the 
effect was not brighter ; she had again lost some- 
thing she never had. 

Only that touch of nature that makes us all 
kin,’’ said Olive, replying to Leila’s question. 

To go on a pilgrimage isn’t the easiest thing ! ” 
said Leila, who found living according to New 
Testament rules very much against her inclina-’ 
tions. 

have always had a fondness for Mercy. I 
am glad it was in old John to put her in his book. 
I’m afraid that’s a forgotten classic among children 5 


A FULL WORLD, 


319 


I never see children reading it as I used to. But 
children’s literature abounds nowadays/^ said Olive, 
out of her middle-aged experience. 

And I read everything ; I do not believe 
there^s a book in papa^s big library that I hadn’t 
peeped into and got something out of before I was 
fifteen.” 

‘‘I was remembering to-day something about 
Lady Mary Wortley Montagu,” answered Olive, 
who loved to talk about the people she knew 
through books to this book-worm at her feet. 

She regretted to her latest hour not being able to 
find The History of Hiempsdl, King of Numidia, the 
most beautiful of all the books she ever read.” 

Probably it was a childish recollection, like 
mine of Mercy ; I don’t want to read it to-day for 
fear I should have no imagination to glorify it. 
Then I saw beautiful Mercy and her coarse work, 
and the scornful, worldly lover, and the matron 
Christiana comforting her, and young Matthew 
stepping in. 0, Olive, I don’t want to lose by 
growing up.” 

Never fear, you won’t get up very far,” com- 
forted her cousin, who had not yet taken himself 
off. MoUie,” raising his voice, are you ready?” 


320 


OTHER FOLK. 


111 a minute/’ answered Diantha, coming to the 
door, with her quick little step, she would trim 
her hat over, and now she’s late.” 

Oh, no f I can wait all day,” said Andrew, 
philosophically, a drive of ten miles doesn’t take 
much time.” 

At that moment Leila lifted her eyes 5 down the 
road was a figure she recognized. Would the color 
flush into the face above her, she wondered % Would 
it be kind to give her warning ? 

^^If you could choose — among everybody you 
ever saw — ^whom would you choose to see to-day ? ” 
Leila inquired, her voice nervous in spite of her 
effort to speak naturally, Don’t stop to think ! 
Be impulsive for once.” 

And tell the truth,” added Andrew. 

Whom would you ? ” Olive asked, intent on 
her work. 

My papa ! ” returned Leila. But here comes 
somebody we all want to see ! Cousin Di, look 
down the road.” 

Cousin Di looked and gave a shout of welcome. 

Well, I should as soon have thought ! But I’m 
real glad ! I don’t see what brings him, though. 
I’m glad I have molasses cake in the house.” 


A FULL WORLD. 


321 


Olive had learned self-control j but her lips grew 
painfully white j she could not speed away and 
hide, as she had a childish impulse to do ; she must 
rise and shake hands and speak. This was in her 
day. It had been in it as long as God knew it 
would be. But it could not hurt her, even if 
it had to be hard. She did not think this now ; she 
did not think anything; she felt how white and 
stiff her lips were. Andrew was calling Mollie 
again, Diantha hurried out to the gate, and, by 
some mishap Leila pricked Olive’s fingers in taking 
her work from her ; the color rushed to the whit- 
ened lips, and it was only her self-possessed self that 
shook hands with Allan Menzies, and her frank 
greeting was very easy. 

It must be right for me to be here,” she reas- 
oned within herself in her chamber that night ; 

but I must go soon where he will not come. Dr. 
Clymer says another month of being out at pasture 
will make me ready for my usual work.” 

To-night life seemed to her only one long work- 
ing-day. She would be glad when night came and 
she might go to sleep. 

Diantha followed her out into the entry the next 
morning to say something in a confidential whis- 


322 


OTHER FOLK. 


per ; following people around to whisper something 
was one of her peculiarities. 

I don’t like to ask Miss Leila, because it 
might seem like sending her off, but I have an 
offer of a mother and two children for a month, and 
her chamber is the only one I have for them : do 
you know how soon she is going ? ” 

^^No,” said Olive, but that need not hinder 
you ; Leila will be glad to share my chamber : 
every time she goes into it, she wishes she could 
stay there.” 

Ah, that will do then ! From something I 
overheard this morning — she was talking to Men- 
zies — I didn’t know, he may stay and finish his 
writing, and then I suppose she would want to stay 
and help him.” 

Diantha’s tone was very significant. 

^^You can easily learn what you wish to by 
speaking to her,” returned Olive, in her distant 
manner, and Diantha found Mollie to tell her that 
Miss Vanema was growing more unapproachable 
every day, and she understood her no better than 
the day she came, which was saying a great deal. 

While Olive stood on the door-stone debating 
how to spend her morning, Menzies appeared, 


A FULL WORLD. 


323 


coming up the lane with Leila ; they were walking 
slowly, and his head was bent listening to her. 

Olive,” called Andrew from the piazza, ^^come 
and take a walk. The day was made to be out in. 
To-morrow it will rain j I feel it in my bones.” 

As Leila lifted her face, Olive thought she 
needed only an undefined something to give 
her beanty — a something she had this very minute, 
a flush rounded her cheeks and feeling kindled 
her pale gray eyes into darkness and bright- 
ness. 

Well,” she assented, in response to Andrew^s 
call. He came around to her and insisted that she 
should put on her hat. We may go around the 
world.” 

. Which way ? ” inquired Menzies. 

Nowhere in particular,” said Andrew. ^^We 
are going somewhere to find a place to go.” 

Then Miss Vanema will not go with you ; she 
always knows where she is going.” 

I know now; deep in the shade down by the 
brook. I can take my work, and somebody can 
take a book — ” 

Somebody isn^t invited,” growled Andrew. 

And somebody can take a lunch ! ” planned 


324 


OTHER FOLK, 


Leila. Oh^ do wait till I call Mollie. Let^s all 

The book and the brook, the shady place, the 
lunch and the people, were gathered together and 
all harmonious, as Leila knew they would be as 
soon as her cousin recovered his good-humor : the 
gentlemen carried shawls and lunch baskets and 
the girls had their work ; it was to be a day out 
of doors. Mollie was radiant : her summer was 
all good times. 

I wish Miss Hannah were here,^’ said Olive, as 
she dropped her bundle of work on the shawl 
spread out between the trees. I want her to 
have one young time before we go home ; it 
would give her a lift, and that is all she needs.” 

As we didn’t have that ride ! ” assented Leila, 
run back and get her ; it will not take five 
minutes.” 

Let me go,” proposed Mollie. I can help 
her get ready and make Aunt Maria and Aunt 
Mary Jane and Aunt Sarah Lib willing to let her 
come. Grandma will be willing. They have to 
hold a woman’s convention over every new thing, 
and it takes the longest time. But I’ll hurry it 
through.” 


A FULL WORLD, 


325 


My services would be of no avail, then,” re- 
marked Andrew. I was about to immolate 
my self. 

I will go with you/^ said Menzies, depositing 
his lunch basket at the foot of a tree. I know 
your mother is running down the lane with some- 
thing we have forgotten, and I can relieve her 
anxiety ! 

Mollie scampered off, and Menzies followed 
slowly ; then she turned and waited for him. Olive 
saw her take hold of his hand as they went on 
together. 

Has Miss Vanema been happy, Mollie ? 

Yes, I think so. She is always so bright. 
Have you been happy, Menzies ? 

If going straight ahead makes people happy, 
then I should be. We have been making changes. 
We had a plain talk and I was spokesman. 

Each said what he and she had to say and each 
had a different plan. It was Jane that began it. 
She came home from Dazey full of it. She had 
been with Aunt Betsey, and some kind of a revolu- 
tion has taken place inside her little head and taken 
her heart by storm. Perhaps it was Aunt Betsey’s 
old-fashioned home and old-fashioned life. The 


326 


OTHER FOLK. 


night of her return she came to me, and stood 
behind me, and put her arms about my neck as I 
sat reading and told me I was a good brother. We 
are not demonstrative as a family j I think we lose 
something — I think Amzi misses something 5 we 
repress and depress him. I never saw my father 
kiss one of his daughters.’^ 

Perhaps fathers don't,” said Mollie, thinking of 
her own father j not after they are grown up.” 

I was surprised at Jane.” 

He lingered over it as though he loved to talk 
about it. 

I did not know she thought I was a good 
brother ; I do not feel that I had been. What do 
you think she asked me, Mollie ? ” 

I can^t imagine,” said Mollie. 

Something I had not dared ask myself. She 
said : ^ Allan, do you know the woman you wish 
to marry ? ^ I dared not answer. My life had 
been so shut up — she knew about Virginia. I said: 

^ I do not know any woman who is willing to marry 
me.’ But she would not be satisfied, she repeated 
her question. I said : ^ Yes, Jane, I do j but I 
have given it up. Marriage is a luxury that I 
shall never be able to afford 5 talk no more about 


A FULL WORLD, 


327 


it.^ And then she cried, dear little Jane, with her 
head on the back of my chair. And then she 
talked ; everything pent up for years seemed to 
pour itself out. The gist of it was that everybody 
must take a turn at the mill and help in grinding 
his own grist. Aunt Betsey wanted her and Amzi. 
She would take care of the house and Amzi always 
loved the farm and was always studying agriculture 
when everybody discouraged him ; it was the only 
thing he really did care for. Father^s money must 
be divided — Amzi is twenty-one — and each one 
start out with it. Ten thousand dollars into six 
parts ! Not a fortune for any of us, little girl. I 
believe Aunt Betsey’s kind old heart is at the 
bottom of it. After that we had the family council. 
Butler is to be married, and Abby is to go with 
him ; she is his favorite sister j she says she can 
make the interest of her money dress her if Letty 
will do the making j and Letty will go with me — it 
all simmered down into that. We talked till after 
midnight, and then everybody went to bed satisfied. 
The next morning everybody was glad to see 
everybody else at breakfast f our house hadn’t been 
so full of happy faces since I can remember j and 
then it came out that each one was thinking and 


328 


OTHER FOLK. 


contriving^ and no one wished to speak first — for 
it is not a light thing to break up a home, — 
especially among brothers and sisters who are not 
young. Father had lived in that house forty-five 
years. Butler will take the house. He has 
something laid up ; he has never been extravagant 5 
he has not done anything for the house excepting 
pay his board. My money has slipped through my 
fingers somehow : I like to see the girls well 
dressed and pretty things about the house, and I 
liked father to go to Saratoga every summer 5 I 
haven’t two hundred dollars ahead.” 

^^But you can write now, can’t you?” MoUie 
inquired, anxiously. 

I can do better. I have another offer, a very 
good one. Mr. Hazen, of the High School — the 
Latin teacher has gone off and his position is 
offered me. Not a large salary, but two or three 
people can live on it. I’ve had private pupils all 
my life. I’m not rusty in teaching. What do you 
think of all this ? ” 

MoUie thought some very wise thoughts, but she 
did not speak them. She did not like to ask if the 
woman he wished to marry were Leila 5 her 


A FULL WORLD. 


329 


mother said it was Leila. She did not think it 
was; Leila was a girl like herself. 

Cousin Menzies, thank you for telling me all 
about it. I like Jane.’^ 

Are you glad for me?’^ he asked, remembering 
how she had once been sorry for him. 

I am glad for that — girl.’’ 

She may not be glad for herself. I am a 
rough, rusty old bachelor,” with a regretful 
sigh. 

Perhaps she likes rough, rusty old fellows like 
you,” laughed Mollie, to whom her cousin had been 
old ” all her life. Perhaps she is rough and 
rusty, too.” 

She is gold — refined,” he said in a voice harsh 
with deep feeling. 

Is she a girl ?” 

She is a girl to me ! ” he said, with a smile at 
the memory of the girl on the woodpile. 

May I tell Leila about Jane and what she 
said? Mother did not think Jane was like that. 
You are not rough and rusty to Leila any more 
than you are to me.” 

I told her myself — not half of what I have told 
you, but that my little sister was a treasure. I was 


330 


OTHER FOLK. 


telling her as we came up the lane and found the 
beginning of our picnic.’’ 

It was an hour before MoUie and Menzies re- 
turned with Miss Hannah; she had on her sun- 
bonnet and clean gingham apron, and in both 
hands was carrying a juicy pie of harvest apples. 
She was welcomed with a shout and a clapping of 
hands and made to sit down on the shawl, next to 
Olive. 

I brought my knitting; I could not waste too 
much time. But I shall like to hear you chatter. 
Maria said it was folly and nonsense, and I told her 
I liked folly and nonsense then. Mary Jane was 
taking out her pies and gave me a hot one. She 
makes the queen of apple pies. And she sent this 
to Mr. Croft.” 

Andrew closed his book to look at the apple pie; 
Miss Hannah had told Olive that he was the first 
gentleman in the land; he had lifted a heavy cream 
pail for her, and one night when she had a pain in 
her side and Sarah Lib was away, he had strained 
all her milk. 

What is 1C that ye came to note ? 

A young man preacliing in a boat ? ” 


A FULL WORLD. 


331 


The words he last read kept themselves in his mind. 
This Young Man preaching in a boat was more and 
more getting a hold on his imagination; yesterday 
for two hours he talked with Leila about the yoimg 
ruler who went away from Christ sorrowful. 

^^He says lovely things/^ Leila sighed to her- 
self, but he will never do them.^^ 

Miss Hannah settled herself back against a tree, 
and pulled her knitting out of her pocket. It was 
fun to her, as it was to Mollie, to play that she was 
a summer boarder; to her the fun of it was that it 
was make-believe; to Mollie the pleasure was that, 
for awhile, it seemed real. 

IVe learned a new way for girls to earn 
money,^’said Leila. I think I shall make a study 
of the things working-women can do.^’ 

It^s easy enough to make a study of other 
people’s work,” asserted Miss Hannah. ^H’d like to 
do it myself. 

Leila was not abashed by the laugh; she enjoyed 
a hit at herself. 

This way is by raising canaries. I should 
think your sister Jane might like that, Mr. Men- 
zies. Good singers bring good prices, and even the 
poor ones sell. Does she like canaries ? ” 


332 


OTHER FOLK. 


She loves pets of all kinds. That^s a sugges- 
tion worth thinking of. It will amuse her in the 
country 5 I suppose she must learn how.’^ 

That is simple enough/’ said Leila. A big 
cage, a wide, shallow nest, and cleanliness are 
essential. I believe I would like to try it. There’s 
a great deal of wasted energy in me.” 

My sister and youngest brother are going to 
Dazey, Miss Olive,” Menzies remarked, his tone 
as unconcerned as though it were merely a summer 
vacation. 

That red house, Olive ! ” Leila burst in. I 
don’t see why such things don’t happen to me.” 

It happened to me once,” said Olive. 

^^Miss Olive, will -you go again!” asked Men- 
zies, picking up the dried sticks at his feet. I 
bear an invitation for you j a most urgent 
one.” 

She is going to the seaside with Leila,” an- 
swered Andrew incisively, and they must be off in 
a day or two.” 

^^I have not promised,” said Olive. ^^I think I 
shall not go — that takes money; I do want to go to 
Dazey, for one day and one night; it would make me 
a girl again.” 


A FULL WORLD. 


333 


That is not desirable/^ observed Andrew. 

What do you want to be a girl for ? 

I do not think I do — but I would like to live in 
that time one day — perhaps to be glad to come 
back again.’^ 

May I write that you will go ? Menzies per- 
sisted, still poking among the dried sticks. 

Is your sister there now ? 

She will be next week j Amzi, too. I want 
you to see Jane. She has heard of you — Aunt 
Betsey talked of you,^^ he added, awkwardly. 

Do go, Olive,” persuaded Leila, go for a 
week. I knew you wouldn^t go with me. I shall 
have papa and Andrew.” 

Olive pondered; her work seemed to be taking 
all her attention. There was nothing in the world 
she wished so much to do. 

Aunt Betsey said it might be your last oppor- 
tunity; ^ tell her,^ she said, ^ that I am a very old 
woman.^ ” 

Dr. Clymer says I may go back to work.” Olive 
played with her spool. I am ready for work ; I 
have not quite decided about it. I do not think 
I shall raise canaries. So many directions are 
tempting to me. But I will go to Dazey, first. I 


334 


OTHER FOLK, 


will go — why, I might go to-morrow. I wOTild like 
to stay over Sunday and go to church and Sunday 
school. My girls are all grown up, and I suppose 
married — I shouldn't know any of them. This is 
the loveliest thing that could happen to me, Leila.’^ 

Jane will not be there j Aunt Betsey has a 
housekeeper ; how glad the old soul will be ! ” 
^^Understanding everybody's delight. Miss Olive, 
how is it that you have kept away so long % 
Andrew inquired, with a perceptible shade of sar- 
casm. Is Dazey down on the map I It must be 
on the celestial map, I think.’’ 

It is not fifty miles from this spot,” said Men- 
zies. You must take an early train. Miss Olive j 
it is not the easiest thing to make the connection ; 
you will have to wait two hours — but it is at a 
country station, and you can take a book and a 
lunch. You haven’t forgotten, have you, where 
you take the stage ? ” 

Hasn’t anything changed ? Can I ride in that 
same old stage f ” 

You will have to ride in a new one, I’m sorry 
to say, and it is very comfortable. One of your 
small pupils has grown up and married and taken 
the stage route j he was in the First Reader then, 


A FULL WORLD, 


335 


and is hardly out of it now. But he can drive 
horses, if he can^t read the newspaper.^^ 

Who is he ? ” 

Hathaway. That freckled little Sam.’^ 
Barefooted and red-headed ! I remember him. 
He couldnH learn to read. I used to keep him 
after school, and he would cry all over his unlearned 
lesson ) once he tore out the leaf.’^ 

That is where Hiram wants to go/’ said Mol- 
lie. Will he have to be examined f ” 

He can go through with it,^^ Olive answered 5 
it is nothing dreadful. I remember some of my 
questions now. I could scarcely sleep the night 
before, for dread of it : the superintendent took me 
into somebody^s back kitchen, and asked me what 
a disjunctive conjunction was.^’ 

^^He couldn’t catch you on grammar,” said 
Menzies. What did he catch you on ? ” 

Not on the circumference of the earth, or the 
number of degrees in a circle, or who discovered 
America, or where Napoleon died,” Olive stopped 
to laugh. 

See that squirrel ! ” exclaimed Andrew. It 
is actually sitting up with a nut in its fore-paws.” 
How the day went after that Olive hardly knew. 


33G 


OTHER FOLK, 


There was reading aloud, and strolls by twos and 
threes, and two delicious lunches, and singing- and 
merry talk and laughter, and then in the late 
afternoon the walk home up the lane ; Andrew car- 
ried her shawl and Menzies took Leila^s from her 
and threw it over his arm ; she walked home with 
Miss Hannah ; Miss Hannah said she would never 
forget what a good time she had had. 

I can’t bear to have you go,” said Miss Han- 
nah, after the milking was done and she went up 
to Olive’s room for a final talk. Do you think 
you will come back % ” 

^^Miss Hannah, to be frank, I cannot afford to 
travel about j of course I shall not think of the 
Dazey school ; I want Hiram to have that. Mr. 
Menzies says some one asked him if he could 
get a teacher, and he told them of Hiram. 
But I am thinking of Miss Peters’ school 5 I am 
very much drawn to that. Last week she wrote to 
me again, urging me to come. And you know I am 
thinking of the poor mothers and children in New 
York city ; but Dr. Clymer warned me about doing 
that. He says I am not as strong as I look and 
feel.” 

You are a beautiful picture of health,” Hannah 


A FULL WORLD. 


337 


exclaimed^ in frankest admiration. Your cheeks 
are like ripe peaches.^^ 

Yes, I am strong said Olive, in the voice of 
one not thinking of what she was saying. 

There was a look of preparation for a journey 
about the room j the lid of her trunk was lifted, 
small boxes were uncovered, a dress was thrown 
over a chair and she was standing with her hands 
heaped with small things. 

It looks like going,” said Hannah. I like to 
see things look as if something was going to hap- 
pen.” 

Olive stood still, undecided j if she did not 
return, and that might not be best, would she not 
be glad of another week at Diantha’s ? 

But then Jane Menzies would be at Dazey ! 
What reason in the world was there for Jane 
Menzies not being at Dazey when she was there ? 

Miss Hannah, Bm a goose — a silly goose. I 
donT know what I want to do.” 

I don’t believe you want to go.” 

I don’t believe I will decide to go — yet. I can 
pack at midnight, if need be. I know you came 
for something.” 

Miss Hannah sat down on the side of the bed. 


•338 


OTHER FOLK. 


I don’t know what it is ; I want you to help me 
a little more before you go j I thought perhaps you 
could tell me something else ? 

The patient, pathetic voice, the cry for help, the 
determination to do the best she could, touched 
Olive anew j the hard hands, the rough shoes, the 
careless hair, told their own story j but it was a 
very sweet story to this woman who had learned to 
understand the depth of a life that seemed shallow. 

A word out of your book, perhaps j I donT 
seem to know how to find what I want. I guess 
the Lord tells you.^’ 

He does,^^ said Olive, dropping her handful 
into the tray of her trunk. 

She lighted her lamp, and with her ‘^book^^ in 
her hand drew her chair to the woman sitting on 
the side of the bed. 

I wish you would tell me how to read the 
Bible.’’ 

Leila’s question over again ; how to read the 
Bible. 

I do not think I read it 5 I live it. I absorb it, 
it grows into me j it is true things, real happen- 
ings j it is God Himself, what He thinks and does for 
everybody — ^it is not yesterday, it is to-day — it is 


A FULL WORLD. 


339 


God, and it is me, I look into His face, I see Him 
and hear Him speak. That is not reading ; it i? 
having, I cannot tell you how to read the Bible. 

I do not read it. These pages and letters are only 
outside things 5 I do not see them. When that 
woman touched the hem of Christas garment, she 
did not think of what she held in her hand, the 
material of Christas garment, she thought of Him 
and held on to Him ; she could not have told * 
you whether it was silk or wool ; she knew she 
had hold of Christ. When you go by yourself and 
sit down with Ilis book in your hand, you are like 
that woman ; His book is His garment, He is within 
it, it is wrapping Him round j He gives Himself to 
you. You cry out to Him and He answers j He 
speaks, these words are what He speaks to you. 
Himself teaches you what He means j Himself, the 
Holy Spirit.'' 

I have read it through twice 5 I never go to 
bed, achey and tired as I am, without reading my 
chapter. I am in Joshua, nowj to-night I shall 
read the third chapter. It's a pretty story." 

Miss Hannah, it is God and you." 

Miss Hannah’s eyes widened; she looked ner- 


vous. 


340 


OTHER FOLK. 


God has been getting you ready all day to be 
with Him to-night. He has something to say to 
you. He makes our lives to fit His word. Every 
time you come to Him to listen to His word, ask 
Him to talk to you; pray, ^ Give me thy Holy 
Spirit to make me understand.^” 

I will,” promised Hannah under her breath. 

Olive found Hannah^s chapter,” and read it 
aloud in her clear, impressive voice. 

These things happened to these people to tell 
them something new and true about God. Every 
new thing was a good thing. He gave them the 
ark to go before them through Jordan with very 
plain directions ; ^ that ye may know the way by 
which ye must go : for ye have not passed this way 
heretofore.^ Every day is a new way to us ; we 
have never lived through to-morrow ; He wishes us 
to Iznoiv how to go ; not to guess, and try experi- 
ments, but to be sure. I do not know what to do 
to-morrow ; you see I am undecided ; I donT know 
what is wise. But He wants me to know. He 
wants you to know. How could we know, never 
having passed this way before ? Joshua said to the 
people, ^ Sanctify yourselves.* Make yourselves 


A FULL WORLD. 


341 


canH do that/’ said Hannah, I’ve .tried, 
and I always get worse and make things worse for 
other folks.” 

If we can’t, then we don’t have to. If God has 
given us a command impossible to be obeyed — ” 

Oh, He hasn’t ! I didn’t mean that ; I wouldn’t 
dare say that,” cried Hannah, rubbing her thin 
fingers over each other. 

I will find what Jesus said about that very 
word. Sanctify, 

She turned the leaves, the eager eyes watching. 

Jesus was praying to His Father, praying for 
all His disciples, all who should ever believe ; for 
you and me, Hannah and Olive, as truly as for 
Peter and John. He prayed : Sanctify them — 
sanctify Hannah, sanctify Olive — He knew all 
about us — -Sanctify them through thy truth. Make 
them holy through thy truth. What is His truth ? ” 

His word,” said Hannah. 

He tells His Father exactly that : thy word is 
truth. These words in Joshua are His truth. You 
say you cannot sanctify yourself. Christ knew you 
couldn’t when He asked his Father to do it for you, 
in you. Joshua told the people that after they were 
sanctified the Lord would do wonders for them. 


342 


OTHER FOLK, 


After the Father sanctifies you and me, He will do 
wonders for us. Let us pray for ourselves as Christ 
prayed for us : Sanctify me through thy truth, thy 
word is truth. i\jid He will. Every time you 
think of His truth, read His truth, obey His truth. 
He will be making you holy with it. That is the 
way to read the Bible. 

^^Yes,’^ said Hannah, so impresssd that words did 
not come readily, but tell me something else. If I 
had read that I shouldn't have known, or remem- 
bered, that Christ prayed about that. How can I 
find all the other things ? 

I am so glad you asked me that. That is a 
help you must have ! Have you a Concordance ? 

No ,* I havenT. Dianth has. She teaches in 
Sunday school, and so she bought a little one and 
paid fifty cents for it.^^ 

That is better than none. But you must have 
a larger one. I will show you mine.^^ 

The Concordance was on the table 5 Olive found 
the word Sanctify,’’ and showed her how to find it 
in the references. 

^^Look in this way for any word that strikes 
you; there’s always something more about every 
thing you wish to learn. ^ Sanctify ’ is enough for 


A FULL WORLD, 


343 


us to-niglit. That is enough to feed us a long while. 
When you are hungry look for something else* 
Don^t cram ! Don’t look for ever so many things 
in one day. Think about Christ’s prayer for you 
and pray it until you are ready for another truth. 
Don’t try to read a whole chapter at a time, unless 
you are ready for it. Get so full with one thought 
that you cannot think of anything else. Then how 
you will growT 

I am growing,” said Hannah, in confidence and 
simplicity. 

I will write the name of the book for you, and 
the bookseller in Monroe will get it for you.” 

How much will it cost ? ” 

This will cost more than fifty cents. One dol- 
lar, and perhaps a little more.” 

That is a good deal to pay for a book, but I’d 
give twice as much.” 

Had not Olive remembered the milking and 
churning it would take to make the pounds of but- 
ter required to buy the book, she would have been 
indignant ; six pounds, perhaps ; and then it was 
only a book ! 

It is more than a book to you 5 it is a part of 
the answer to Christ’s prayer for you.” 


344 


OTHER FOLK. 


And my butter helps to get it/^ cried Hannah, 
in unspeakable delight. think of my butter 

doing that. I should think He would care for 
churning and milking. 

Olive smiled ; Hannah had given her a thought ; 
when she told the dairy-woman that the Lord cared 
for the work of her hands, she did not think of 
anything as practical as this. 

Now IVe got it,^^ said Hannah, rising, and 
Fm going. Dianth was afraid you might teach 
something dangerous when I told her you talked 
the Bible to me. I don^t know what she will think 
of my spending so much for a Concordance ! 

You haven’t any daughter to buy pretty things 

for.” 

I wouldn’t do all she does for Mollie, and make 
her giddy and vain,” said Hannah, thinking of the 
summer silk Diantha had promised Mollie. Dianth 
has a long head, but she outwits herself sometimes ; 
do you think Mr. Croft cares much for Mollie ? ” 
Olive was startled ; she kept back the words on 
her lips. 

Dianth does,” Hannah’s voice sank to a whis- 
per. She’s counting on it. She says Mollie is 
lady enough to be a rich man’s wife.” 


A FULL WORLD, 


345 


The dear child ! The dear, simple, beautiful 
child ! Does her mother put such thoughts into her 
head ? 

How simple and unseeing she had been herself ! 

You know he takes her riding, said Hannah, 
with a convincing air. 

When Leila wonh go.^’ 

^^He has taken her alone four times j Dianth told 
me.^^ 

Yes — I think he has, perhaps. But she had 
shopping to do, and the horses were busj. He 
likes to take somebody every day with his horses.^^ 

He hires the horses, doesn^t he ? 

Yes, they belong to a man in Monroe.^^ 

Such a pretty carriage ! I should think Mollie 
would like to go. Nobody ever paid me such at- 
tention when I was a girl,’’ said Mollie’s aunt, with 
jealous regrets 

It is something not to be desired. Miss Hannah, 
if it is to be so seriously misunderstood. I am 
sorry her mother encourages it. I know Mr. 
Croft. He is amused with Mollie j she is as sweet 
as a wild rose to him, but when he goes back to the 
city he will not care for wild roses. They belong 
to the country. I am so sorry, so very sorry ! ” 


346 


OTHER FOLK. 


‘‘ So am said Hannali penitently, ‘^\iyon are. 
I thought you would know. I can tell Mollie j she 
likes me best of her aunts. She will listen to me. 
She will not build any hopes. But she doesn^t see 
through Dianth I 

Olive gave a little sigh when she was alone. 

This little world at Diantha’s, how full it was — 
of other people. Sometimes she felt as if it were 
full of herself. There was enough in herself to- 
night to fill it full. 

Allan and Leila started out to walk to the mail 
immediately after supper ; Leila expected a letter 
from her father j Allan asked her to go with him 
to get it ; as they went out the gate she came dovui 
the lane to go up to her room to pack for to-morrow’s 
journey. 

Allan had told her that this girl with her musical 
voice and alert mind was very interesting to him ; 
as Olive dropped the lid of her trunk, she thought 
perhaps the interest might continue all his life. 
This was not a thing belonging only to the country. 

It was queer, but she had not outgrown. Would 
she grow old and outgrow? Did she wish she 
might % 

She was glad she had all those girls at the Sem- 


^ FULL WORLD. 


347 


inary to think ofj it would not do to outgrow 
girls ; and yet, not outgrowing them, she was a 
kind of a girl herself, and that was hard, in middle- 
age, when such things were supposed to have 
passed out of her life. She did not specify what 
things. A peach was not a wild rose j but the 
peach was the fruit. 

Olive ! Olive ! cried Leila^s voice on the 
stairs, do open the door and let me in 1 Papa is 
coming. 

Olive opened the door and came out on the land- 
ing. 

Papa will be here some time to-morrow. Y ou 
cannot run away, now he is coming. What would 
he think ? Now you cannot go till next week* 
I’m crazy about papa ! I haven’t seen him for 
weeks ! You wUl not go.” 

In an instant Olive decided not to go. How 
could she go when Dr. Provost had been her best 
friend ever since she began to need a friend ? 

I certainly will not go.” 

I told Mr. Menzies you would not. I don’t see 
why he should care so much, anyway. It’s only 
his old aunt, and she can wait. People over ninety 
have learned to wait.” 


348 


OTHER FOLK. 


What a comfort it will be when you are 
ninety.^^ 

People so old can’t care ; it’s lived and suffered 
out of them. I wanted you to go for your sake, 
not for hers.” 

Then life had not been lived and suffered ” out 
of her in the thought of this girl of twenty-one. 

I’m so glad papa’s letter came in time. There’s 
a message for you. He never forgets you. I tell 
him that you are his oldest daughter.” 

To stay then must be God’s best way for her, or 
He would have done some better thing for her. 
How much of her life was in her own hands was 
always a perplexing question. But the perplexity 
was solved when she remembered it was in her-ewn 
hands to put into God’s hands. 

Leila flitted off to find Mollie, and Olive went 
slowly down through the house and out into the 
apple orchard. The old mother was fanning her- 
self at a bedroom window down-stairs and com- 
plaining of the heat 5 the old father was walking 
restlessly about the back yard j Sarah Lib in a 
stiffly starched muslin was entertaining loud-voiced 
friends in the parlor 5 Maria was setting the 
sponge ’’for her bread at the kitchen table j Mary 


A FULL WORLD. 


349 


Jane, darning stockings, was at the same table, work- 
ing by the dim light of the one small kerosene lamp ; 
Hannah had gone down to the cow-yard to take a 
pail of warm feed to an ailing cow. 

The new moon trembled in the west near its 
setting ; Olive thought it was the prettiest new 
moon she ever saw 5 the fireflies glinted through 
the orchard ; the birds had twittered and gone to 
rest j a katydid sounded in the locust-trees across 
the road, the air was still and cool, the retirement 
and motion of the hammock were inviting ; she 
nestled herself into it and let it swing. 

Something she had learned one night when she 
was too weary to sleep repeated itself to her as the 
hammock, like a cradle, swung to and fro : 

“ Like a cradle, rocking, rocking. 

Silent, peaceful, to and fro— 

Like a mother’s sweet looks dropping 
On the little face below— 

Hangs the green earth, swinging, turning, 

Jarless, noiseless, safe and slow, 

Falls the light of God’s face, bending 
Down and watching us below. 

And as feeble babes that suffer. 

Toss and cry and will not rest, 

Are the ones the tender mother 
Holds the closest, loves the best — 


350 


OTHER folk: 


So, when we are weak and wretched, 

By our sins weighed down, distressed, 

Then it is that God’s great patience, 

Holds us closest, loves us best.” 

The step in the lane hesitated, then it came on 
over the grass and through the orchard straight to 
the swinging hammock. 

Miss Olive, may I come 1 

^^May you stay, you mean?” she said with a 
laugh that trembled a little, like her voice. 

Allan Menzies leaned against the tree at the foot 
of the hammock and stayed its motion with his 
hand. 

It^s a glorious night.” 

Yes,” was all she said. 

You will not go to-morrov^ then.” 

No.” 

This is a new summer to me. I have not told 
any one about it — excepting my pastor.” 

And then he told her about that night as he 
lay on his bed reading and the pressure he was 
under, the mighty pressure that would have its 
way. 

I did not believe in Christ in any sure way. 
I was compelled to believe j I could not resist j I had 


A FULL WORLD. 


351 


no desire to resist. It was the sweetest, most 
forceful influence. Olive, it was the Holy Spirit.’ 

Yes,” was all she could say, and then, you 
know how very glad I am j I never was so glad 
about anything before.” 

I knew you would be.” 

He stood a moment, then moved away. The 
new moon hung low in the west, the fireflies darted 
hither and thither. 

Olive stayed in the hammock until the light in 
the kitchen window disappeared, and then she knew 
it was late and she must go in. 


XVI. 

THAT LAST DAY. 

Many things, having full reference 

To one consent, may work contrarionsly : 

As many arrows, loosed several ways. 

Fly to one mark ; as many ways meet 
in one town. 

—Shakespeare. 

And his daughter is such a plain little piece/^ 
answered Diantha, as if she could not understand 
how it happened. 

Lucy Ann opened the conversation by remark- 
ing that Dr. Provost was handsome enough to be 
a soldier, she did not know that ministers ever 
were so handsome. 

Ever allowed themselves to be/^ said Menzies, 
who was standing in the kitchen doorway. 
suppose the General Assembly doesn^t like to speak 

to him about it.” 

352 


THAT LAST DAY. 


353 


^^Menzies^ you know Leila is ugly/^ contended 
Diantha. 

I know she is one of the most attractive bits 
of human nature I ever saw/^ he replied compos- 
edly. 

Diantha had been wishing that somebody would 
say something provoking, that she might have an 
excuse for being cross. 

Dr. Provost had been there a week, and now he 
was going away and would take Leila with him; 
that lady with children had written to say she had 
found board elsewhere ; Miss Vanema was going for 
good, and Menzies had said he must be off the 
same day ; she had hoped, with no encouragement 
from anybody, that Andrew Croft would stay and 
finish the summer, and perhaps all the fall; he 
had been in such raptures over everything, and he 
could have LeiWs chamber, and in that case, she 
could ask two dollars extra for board. 

Now her house would be empty, and the butchePs 
bill not paid, and Lucy Ann to have her three dol- 
lars a week ; it was too provoking, and somebody 
ought to behave and make things different. Mollie 
had her summer silk in the house all ready to be 
made up, but what would it amount if nobody 


354 


OTHER FOLK. 


stayed! And there was Hiram giving notice, 
after all these ten years, when everybody took it 
for granted he would stay all his natural life 5 even 
if no bargain had ever been made, it was honorable for 
him to stay after being treated like one of the family. 
A school-teacher! He was about as capable of 
teaching as David’s yoke of oxen. 

^‘•You did that !” exclaimed Diantha, speaking 
out of the irritation of the moment and following 
her own thoughts. You got Hiram Anderson 
away.” 

He got himself away by having brains ! ” 

And Miss Vanema ! I just heard about it. 
To think of anything going on in my house and I 
not knowing it ! She has been teaching that boy 
nights for a month 5 Arithmetic, teaching him how 
to teach children, and Grammar, and Geography. 
Every night, except Sundays, over there at mo- 
ther’s ! They got an hour at it whenever they 
could ! And sometimes it was in the noon spell ! 
She’s an underhanded woman, and I’m glad she’s 
going away. And if it hadn’t been for her meddling, 
Mollie might — Mr. Croft took a fancy to her from 
the very first, and I got it out of Hannah that she 
didn’t like it ! What is she to him ? She’s nothing 


THAT LAST DAY, 


355 


but a poor school-teacher. She^s capable of setting 
him against Mollie — artful thing ! — with her pretty 
step and white hair and face as innocent as ababy^s. 
There^s something unexplained about her, I shall 
always believe. I’d like to know whose money she 
is living on. She never went to church until Mr. 
Croft came and hired horses and asked David to 
board them — and David ought to give me that 
money j he wouldn’t have had the horses but for 
the man j and he took his cousin and her to church. 
I suppose our big wagon wasn’t style enough for a 
broken-down school-teacher. I never shall believe 
she is orthodox, for all her having the Bible around 
in places where a nice Bible shouldn’t be ! On her 
bed, and on a chair, and in her hammock and even 
on the grass, and I saw it once on a seat down by 
the brook. I call that ostentatious piety, and I 
hope to be delivered from it. I am willing to eat 
my head if she didn’t meddle about Mollie and Mr. 
Croft. I hnow she spoke to him. He’s had a 
way of following her about like everybody else ; I 
hope you’ll be warned, and not play with fire, 
Cousin Menzies. I’ve noticed you do leave her 
judiciously alone. It’s a wonder, for she showed as 
plain as print how glad she was to see you that 


356 


OTHER FOLK. 


morning she came in from walking and saw you at 
the breakfast table.’’ 

Dianthy,” said Lucy Ann in the first pause, 
if you expect to have them biscuit ready for 
breakfast it is time they was in the oven.” 

Menzies listened in serene silence j when the 
torrent of words ceased for the space of a breath, 
he turned and went into the sitting-room and shut 
the door. 

Mollie was setting the long breakfast table, her 
eyelids were reddened and her cheeks flushed and 
wet. 

Never mind, little girl,” said Menzies, touching 
her hair as he passed her. 

don’t like mother — to be like that,” she 
sobbed. am glad about everything — I want 

Hiram to go, and Mr. Croft was very kind to me 5 
he gave me a ten dollar gold piece yesterday because 
I had waited on him like a little maid, he said, and 
I couldn’t think nonsense — when Hiram talked to 
me about it and didn’t want me to — and I’ve had 
the best time I ever had and mother is spoiling it 
all. I wish mothers never spoiled things, don’t 
you ? ” 

I know a daughter who sweetens things.” 


TI/AT LAST DAY. 


357 


She sajs Hiram shan^t write to me, if he goes 
away, and father says he shall. 

The kitchen door was opened by a quick hand, 
and Diantha’s heated face looked in. 

Mollie, child, hurry ; my biscuits is in the 
oven.’^ 

Mollie started, and dropped her pile of clean 
napkins on the table. Menzies did not appear at 
the breakfast table j Diantha was disturbed and 
flurried, spoke sharply to Mollie, found fault with 
her husband, pushed over a pitcher of cream and 
informed the table that she didn’t think she would 
ever take boarders again. You didn’t know who 
you took into your house — men would flirt and 
women would be underhanded, and no money 
would pay for the wear and tear of the nerves. 

That is true, Mrs. Van Der Zee,” courteously 
replied Dr. Provost. ^^My daughter and Miss 
Vanema have had a most delightful summer, and 
Mr. Croft thinks your place the prettiest within a 
mile 5 I know they are eager to come again — if 
your nerves will bear the strain.” 

My wife is all nerves,” remarked the head of 
the house, in a conciliatory manner, ^^she is as 
high strung as an Arab horse, a pretty high stepper. 


358 


OTHER FOLK. 


but sbe will run her feet off for you just the same, 
and work her fingers to the bone.^^ 

Andrew lingered after the others had left the 
room, and as Diantha sat sipping her late cup of 
hot coffee he stepped behind her chair and dropped 
two ten dollar gold pieces into her cup. 

I knew it wasn^t sweet enough, he said in the 
winning way in which he spoke to all women ; it 
is too bad for us all to desert you ; that is for the 
little lunches you have prepared for my tramps and 
drives.’’ 

Oh, that wasn’t anything,” she said, gratified 
and surprised. 

It was a good deal to a hungry man 5 I never 
like lunches I find at country bakeries.” 

I’m sure I thank you, and I didn’t expect any- 
thing, Mr. Croft.’’ 

She hid the gold pieces in her top drawer and 
did not speak of them, not even to her husband j 
she persuaded Lucy Ann to take two dollars and 
a half a week, instead of the three she promised, 
and then told her she must throw in two days of 
house-cleaning j for if it hadn’t been for her she 
wouldn’t have had the money at all. 

Every day of this last week was full to Olive. 


TI/AT LAST DAY. 


359 


Dr. Provost claimed her and Leila every morning 
for a walk, Andrew grumbled openly, and MenziCs 
strolled off by himself with a book. Every after- 
noon had a way of its own, and in the evening they 
sat on the piazza and talked and sang j Menzies 
was always one of them, and Leila was never con- 
tent without Mollie. 

The last day, the day of Diantha’s nervous out- 
burst, was the rarest day of all the summer, — cool 
and bright, with every breath laden with sweet 
odors. Leila sighed with happiness j to have the 
country and papa was to her a foretaste of having 
the heavenly country and her Father in Heaven. 

Mollie moved about with slower steps than usual, 
a shadow over the day that shadowed her life ; 
she was so ashamed of her mother ! 

Her mother, carrying her small head loftlily, was 
in and out among them, speaking her hasty words 
hastily and doing little kindnesses for everybody in 
the house. Maria was called over the back yard 
fence to come and help with the dinner, for that day 
was to be the success of the season. Scolding and 
laughing, Diantha edged her way in everywhere 
and put finishing touches to the work of her sisters 5 
her husband boasted that she could do as much 


OTHER FOLK. 


work in five hours as her five sisters could do in 
that time, and then it turned out better. 

Andre w^s plan was a drive with lunch at a 
clearing up a mountain ten miles distant, where the 
view extended endlessly ; but nobody wanted a 
drive or an endless view, everybody wanted to stay 
at home. 

There was the lane, the orchard, the brook, the 
doorstone that was one of Olive’s milestones, the 
piazza, the rustic seats under the horse-chestnuts — 
why, there was everything to be visited and 
enjoyed for the last time. And papa had not seen 
half, Leila said. And Olive must be gotten away 
and know about his plans, Allan Menzies said to 
himself. And she must be alone awhile in her dear 
upper chamber, Olive thought. And he must have 
a talk v/ith Olive, Dr. Provost decided. 

While Andrew frowned and pulled the ends of 
his moustache and wished other people would go off 
to the orchards and brooks and leave Olive alone, 
for he had something to say to her ladyship that she 
should be compelled to hear. 

Not once had she taken a drive with him alone, 
not once since that first morning had he had her 


TI/A T LAST DA Y. 


361 


companionship all to himself one whole hour. He 
had a right to lose his temper. 

And Hannah was glad they did not go on the 
drive, for she could see Miss Vanema in her ham- 
mock, or going in and out, and have a bright word 
from her. No one spoke such bright words as Miss 
Vanema. And Hiram had not looked with favor 
on the drive, because, perhaps. Miss Vanema would 
remember him this last day and give him one more 
lesson in teaching grammar. 

Diantha hoped something from this drive : Mollie 
was to look her prettiest, and her prettiest in her 
mother’s eyes was something to look, especially in 
contrast to Leila^s ugly, pale, sallow, thin little 
face — and it might be this last straw would break 
Mr. Croft^s heart and show him that he couldn^t do 
better than take a wife who would be young when he 
was old and growing more a lady with every 
advantage. But the drive was voted down, and 
the simple worldly mother had to content herself 
with bidding Mollie keep out of the kitchen and take 
the day to herself. 

There will be canning and house -cleaning 
enough for one while after they are gone, child, 
she said, giving her a push away from the kitchen 


362 


OTHER FOLK. 


table with her elbow j take a vacation when you 
can.’^ 

After Andrew^s drive had been set aside, — the 
council was held on the piazza immediately after 
breakfast, — Dr. Provost laid his hand on Olivers 
shoulder : 

Olive, my dear, come and take a walk with 
me.^^ 

It was the tone in which he would have spoken 
to his daughter 5 Olive, my dear^^ and Leila, my 
dear,’^ were set to the same music. Andrew 
grumbled to Leila who stood near him. 

Oh, thank you,^^ said Olive, I have been 
hoping you would ask me.^^ 

Do you- suppose she is hoping that about me % 
Andrew grumbled again to Leila. 

The walk was not far j it ended in a shady place 
half way down the lane, where the twisted roots of 
a hickory-tree formed a comfortable seat for two. 

You know IVe had oversight of you for so 
long that I feel as if you belong to me — I remem- 
ber the first day I saw you, a girl of ten, making 
toast for supper; I called to see your father, I was 
a young fellow then, you had the busy, absorbed air 
of a small housekeeper ; your mother was in an easy 


THA T LAST DA Y. 


363 


chair, and she fretted at you for burning the toast ; 
I was sorry for you, and then your father turned 
and said some sharp words.^^ 

Olive did^not remember ; housekeeping and fault- 
finding were among her earliest remembrances. 

Your uncle thought more of you than he 
appeared to j he could do nothing for you without 
encouraging your father. But all that time is over; 
your sunshine has come, you have no right to have 
a care in the world, have you ? 

^^Not of my own,^’ returned Olive, smiling. 
am so cared for that I have no right to.’^ 

What do you propose doing next ? ” 
^^Ifyouknew all I have thought of! Even getting 
my goods and chattels together and keeping house. 
I long for a home* I want to make a home ; I want 
to feel that it is my very own ; but it would be 
such a poor little one with only three hundred a 
year to support it. I cannot live alone and my 
income would not support two. I would like my 
own fireside and my own table ! two rooms would 
be scarcely enough ; I want them in the city in 
winter.^^ 

You are too ambitious.’^ 

Too ambitious for my purse. I wish I could 


364 


OTHER FOLK. 


work — and not for money ; I have had to think of 
money. I wish I could think of service apart from 
wages. It used to trouble that pay day meant so 
much to me. I could not think that working days 
were enough. And now when I am having such a 
rest as I am having now, and doing only what I 
wiU to do, and having nothing hard Irom morning 
until night I enjoy it so, and wish the winter could 
be like the summer. I have even envied Leila 
because she had not to spur herself into work, but 
could take the day as it came. I have envied 
women with husbands and girls with fathers. I 
haven^t been very good.^^ 

I’m afraid you haven’t,” he said smiling. 

The thing about it that hurts me is that the 
Lord has to whip me into His service. He couldn’t 
trust me with six hundred a year ; He knows I 
would be idle. Now if I do anything beside eat 
and drink and wear the plainest clothing, I must 
work for it. Sometimes I am all on fire to work 
for the poor, and then I think of all I want for my- 
self and resolve to go to money-making again. 

Money is a necessity, and I work harder because 
of wages ; I ought to work harder because I am 
in God’s Kingdom. But I think of the wages and 


TJ/AT LAST DAY, 


365 


forget His work ; I think of what I can do with 
money for myself. That home of my own draws 
me as it can only draw a woman with domestic 
tastes.’’ 

You might take a boarder/’ was the serious 
suggestion. 

But I couldn’t choose my boarder j I couldn’t 
find exactly the one I want 5 some one to harmon- 
ize. I read about some women yesterday, and 
it stirred me all up j it showed me my selfishness. 
Outside the walls of Jerusalem is a lepers’ hospital, 
tended by deaconesses from the German religious 
houses ; they care for the lepers while themselves 
literally dying by inches. Isn’t that what the Lord 
would have them do ? So near where He touched 
the lepers ! There isn’t a bit of that in me.” 

There isn’t a bit of that in most of us.” 

And then when I am faint and weary — Dr. 
Clymer says my strength will not hold out if I at- 
tempt any large thing. I donT see why I should 
work hard when I am faint. He fainteth not, 
neither is weary. He always feels strong to work, 
and I feel like telling Him that His service is very 
hard. It is dreadful to say that, but it is true ; it 
relieves me to talk out my worst self to you. 


366 


OTHER FOLK. 


Something has worn on me this last week j I am 
not a brave woman.’^ 

And something was bringing her life out into 
new frankness 5 her life-long friend was listening, 
surprised. 

No, Olive, we cannot be like Him who fainteth 
not, neither is weary. But cannot we be like Him 
when He was in our human life, bearing the burden 
of the flesh. He did then, this same unweary God, 
a man’s work in a man’s natural strength, with a 
man’s weariness. Once He had leisure, no, not so 
much as to eat, and I think He was naturally as 
hungry and faint for want of food as you and I 
would be j He taught the woman of Samaria when 
He was so tired that He sat down to rest ; and He 
was disturbed in His sleep by His frightened dis- 
ciples to comfort them by His awakened presence. 
I think He worked when He was very tired. 

And not for pay.” 

Olive, you are touching me now. I work for 
wages. When I preached I was paid regularly the 
first of every month. I had a wife and child to 
support. Do you think I should go out like those 
sent two by two, without purse and scrip and 
shoes ? ” 


THAT LAST DAY. 


367 


am glad you reminded me of that/^ said 
Olive, relieved. I remember He said afterward: 
^ But now., he that hath a purse, let him take it.^ 
I live in the now / I must take my purse ; and if I 
have it full, all the better, perhaps. If my life is 
for Him, my purse is a small part of it. I can put 
my purse in His keeping. Do you know I do want 
to fill my purse ? ” 

Ambitious woman ! A whole house, and a full 
purse.’’ 

Olive laughed aloud. It was so pleasant and 
restful to be talking her heart out to somebody who 
understood every half sentence j to somebody who 
might know her worst self and love her not only 
just the same, but all the better. 

I have always known what I had to do next. If 
I could think only of myself, it would be easier to 
decide.” 

What would you decide ? ” 

Oh, something very selfish. I would earn 
money and save money — how I would economize ! 
And when I am fifty, perhaps I could have more 
than two rooms, with all my old, dear housekeeping 
things, and be the loveliest old maid you ever 


saw.' 


368 


OTHER FOLK. 


You are that now. Don’t wait to be 
fifty — ” 

I meant about keeping house. I should be the 
conventional old maid, keep a cat and be particular, 
and not let Leila disarrange things, as I let her 
nowj and I wouldn’t let you put your head on my 
sofa pillow.” 

Not if I turned it over ? ” 

Your head % ” 

You are turning my head now. You are mak- 
ing me forget my errand to you. I must tell you 
that your income will not be so large after this 
month. You have twenty-five dollars a month, 
now ; the small house your uncle owned rented for 
this amount last year, and has for three years, but 
it is out of repair, some modem improvements are 
necessary. You cannot afford to put it into such 
order that it will bring more rent, what will you 
do?” 

I suppose I must go to work,” said Olive. 

At what ? Teaching again ? ” 

What else am I fitted for ? ” 

I don’t know. That has spoiled you for other 
things, probably. Are you sufficiently strong, do 
you think % ” 


THAT LAST DAY. 


369 


Olive looked troubled j was she strong enough to 
make teaching a success ? 

I confess I dread it.’^ 

I dread it for you.^’ 

How much rent will my house bring 1 ” 

I should advise you to put in better order.^^ 
Will the carpenter and the plumber and the 
painter work for nothing ? 

I should advise you to borrow the money.’^ 

I hate to borrow money 

Haven’t you a friend in the world ? ” he asked, 
forlornly. 

Oh, yes. Harriet Peters ! And you ! ” 

Will you accept a loan from me ? ” 

May I pay your interest ? ” 

Certainly. Ten per cent, if you choose.” 

^^But where shall I get the interest.” 

I will lend it to you,” he laughed. 

But couldn’t I sell the house ? ” she asked, as 
the suggestion came to her. 

It is not in good condition to sell.” 

But somebody might buy it to fix up and make 
money on it.” 

That is an excellent idea. What will you take 
for it?” 


370 


OTHER FOLK. 


You know what it is worthy I do not. I have 
never seen it.’^ 

It is worth five or six thousand dollars. I can 
get that for you.’’ 

Then I should have no anxiety or expense.” 

You shall not have the anxiety or expense 
now. I will attend to it for you.” 

And all I shall have to do wiU be to pay you 
interest until I can repay the loan. I must go to 
teaching then. Immediately! The schools open 
in two weeks. Do you suppose I can be re-ap- 
pointed ? ” 

I have no doubt of it. But you would have to 
take the position that is open, and wait for a bet- 
ter one.” 

Olive drooped wearily, leaning her head on her 
hand. 

I wish I didn’t dread it.” 

I am glad you do.” 

That is heartless.” 

Because that gives me reason to hope that you 
will not dread another position I have for you”’ 
^^And women talk about not finding employ- 
ment ! ” 

The trouble is to find women ! There’s em- 


TJIAT LAS 7' DA Y. 


371 


ployment enough. Men and women are always in 
demand.’’ 

Am I in demand ? ” 

A good workman always is.” 

But I can do only one thing.” 

You can do two things. You understand house 
keeping.” 

I suppose I could be a housekeeper.” 

Aren’t you too proud ? ” 

To be anybody’s ! Not to be somebody’s.” 

Well, then, I want you to be my housekeeper.” 

What is to become of Leila ? ” 

Nothing serious. I wish her to make some- 
thing of herself. She is to take up a regular course 
of study this winter and perfect herself in some- 
thing. She has too many smatterings. Andrew and 
I and a good-sized house, with all the company we 
have, would tax her too seriously, with this study 
on her mind. She loves society and so do 1. I 
like to have a house that I can invite a friend to for 
a week, whenever I choose. This kind of a house 
requires some management. You will have two 
servants. You are to be the head, and not in any 
sense the hands.” 

Olive’s eyes were fixed on the gnarled roots at 


372 


OTHER FOLK. 


her feet. Was there anything in the world she 
would like so well, after all ? This would he recre- 
ation and employment. 

But you shall not pay me.^^ 

No, I will only put your house in order for 
you.’’ 

And that will not cost me anything? ” 

Two hundred dollars will put your house in ex- 
cellent order j three hundred at the utmost. If you 
will keep my house in order for one year, I will put 
your house in order for several years. I hope you 
can get better rent next year.” 

But you are making this arrangement for my 
comfort ; you are not thinking of yourself at all.” 

I expect you to think of my comfort.” 

But I am afraid you cannot afford it,” she re- 
turned, so eagerly and anxiously that he laughed 
aloud. 

I am not a very poor man. Leila’s mother had 
money ; perhaps you do not know that. She gave 
me one-third, and her little daughter two-thirds of 
it.” 

‘‘ I did not know it.” 

Then don’t be too sorry for my philanthropic 
scheme.” 


TJIAT LAST DAY. 


373 


She smiled and looked down at the roots j she 
found something in them, for she raised serious eyes 
and asked a serious question. 

I know you will answer me true, Dr. Pro vest. 

I am equally certain.^^ 

Then tell me, if I do not accept this kindness — 
this position — ^will it be necessary for you to have 
some one else ? 

If I can find some one with your qualifications, 
a lady, with the requisite training, some one that 
Leila will take pleasure in, I shall secure her, if I 
can. Leila has often begged me to have a house- 
keeper. She has not thought of you. I flatter 
myself that I discovered you.^^ 

It is so pleasant to think of! I like it better 
than raising canaries, or ants^ eggs.’’ 

You might spend your spare hours in those 
agreeable occupations.” 

Is your housekeeper expected to go to market, 
and pay the bills ? ” 

She is expected to relieve my daughter of 
every care.” 

You may not be satisfied with me.” 

Oh, I’ll engage you a month on trial. You 
know the ways of my house pretty thoroughly.” 


374 


OTHER FOLK. 


For my own sake, for my own selfisk sake, I 
like it better than any plan that has come to me.” 

I should think you might.” 

How much time will you give me ? ” 

How much do you want % ” 

As I must earn money if I keep my house, I 
shall have to decide before school opens.” 

That will suit me.” 

Have you thought of any one else ? ” she 
asked. 

No.” 

Would you advertise ? ” 

I shall take some step, probably that.” 

Dr. Provost, I thank you very much,” she said, 
rising. 

Miss Vanema, I thank you very much for tak- 
ing me into consideration.” 

Then both laughed and turned to go up the lane 
together. 

I am reminded of a magazine story I read about 
the sweetest girl that became the sweetest old maid, 
and the sweetest things were always happening to 
her. With every good thing, she exclaimed, ‘ I 
always am so provided for.^ ” 

I am reminded of her, too.” 


THAT LAST DAY. 


375 


Why, have you read it % Olive asked, inno- 
cently. 

1 am not reminded of the story, but of 
herJ^ 

I believe that is my ambition.^^ 

Another one ! ” 

Oh, no, the old one j to be the sweetest old 
maid.” 

Help Leila along to it.” 

You selfish father ! ” 

I was thinking of her. It is a rare thing to 
become.” 

Because old maids are rare ? ” asked Olive, 
saucily. 

Because sweet old maids are rare.” 

Barer than sweet wives ? ” 

^^No — perhaps not. But thoroughly sweet 
women are rare — in my experience. It is a great 
deal to be sweet. I wish my little girl were 
sweet.^^ 

Perhaps to be sweetened is better than to be 
sweet,” said Olive. Whoever sees Miss Hannah 
ten years hence, I hope will see a sweetened 
woman ! Oh, now I know 5 I’d like to have her 
live with me. Doctor, when my house is done. I’ll 


376 


OTHER FOLK, 


live in it myself, and have Miss Hannah j but, oh 
dear, who will keep, rather what will keep the fire 
from going out ! The kettle must boil.^^ 

Then you have decided to come ! 

Yes, I havCj^ she said, firmly. I will decide 
now. Then I will go home with you to-morrow — 
but, there’s my promised visit to Dazey ! The 
old lady expects me, Mr. Menzies has writ- 
ten.” 

Take a week for that. Leila will have things 
somewhat in order for the new housekeeper. The 
child will dance all over you in crazy gladness. 
She said I never could persuade you. I’ll tell her I 
didn’t. I believe she suffered because she thought 
I intended to marry.” 

I don’t think you did persuade me. It was 
that last thought of having Miss Hannah to live with 
me. And having my own roof over my head. 
Twenty-seven Halsey Street, isn’t it ? Now I re- 
member, that is not far from where Mr. Menzies 
has lived all his life. It’s a pleasant street, for he 
says his home is very pleasantly situated.” 

I’ll take you to it. It’s in a pleasant city. 
Your family expect to move out the last day of this 
month.” 


THAT LAST DAY, 


377 


Then where will my income come from next 
month ! 

My housekeeper will not he in need of food and 
shelter/’ 

But without you, what should I do ? ” 

Oh, you could fall back on your savings.” 

Dr. Provost, after my board is paid this week, 
I shall have exactly nine dollars and forty- one 
cents.” 

Somebody has been extravagant,” he said 
lightly. 

Somebody has enjoyed it,” she said, thinking 
of the wan face that grew rosy and the tired eyes 
with their look of rest. 

You know you always are so provided for.” 

By the time I want to go home, (hasn’t that a 
pleasant sound ‘f) I shall be strong enough to teach, 
and Miss Hannah shall keep house for me ! ” 

‘‘ That sounds so enticing that I wish I were a 
lone, lorn woman myself.” 

I should think men would wish they were 
women!” Olive exclaimed, in ecstacy of admiration 
of woman’s opportunities. 

I shouldn’t think of wishing to be Diantha,” he 
answered, smiling. 


378 


OTHER FOLK. 


The man at her side was as handsome and win- 
ning as Andrew Croft, and there the similarity 
ended 5 this man had a purpose in life and held it j 
for every fine thing he said, he performed ten finer 
ones 5 he was more a doer of the word, than, like 
fluent Andrew, a talker of it. While this man was 
doing a fine thing, Andrew would be writing a poem 
about some fine impulse in himself. And there it 
died its natural death : the poem was never pub- 
lished, the impulse never moved into action. 

In words something like this Olive answered An- 
drew when he asked her persistently that morning 
why she would not become his wife. 

You know I love you, Olive.^^ 

Yes, I know that. I believe that. But I have 
no faith in you. You depress me.^^ 

Tell me why ; make me understand,’^ he 
pleaded. Dr. Provost was in her mind, she did not 
speak his name, but she told Andrew in what he 
differed from the man in whom she could have faith. 
And you think I never can be like that ? ” 

I think you never willP 

Why will I not ? ” he asked, irritably. 

Because you will not to, I suppose. You may 
wish to be what you admire, but you do not will it, 


THAT LAST DAY. 


379 


you even will to take the contrary course ; I sup- 
pose you must will something ; your will is not 
utterly paralyzed. I do not know how wicked you 
are — ^but I do know that you are very weak. If you 
ask me what evil have you done, I ask you w^hat 
good thing have you ever done f You do obey an 
impulse once in a while when it costs you little 
trouble and less thought.” 

Olive,” he said bitterly, believe you despise 
me.” 

I think — sometimes — I almost do,” she an- 
swered sadly. There is no reason but your self- 
ishness and your weak will. You talked half an 
hour last night most beautifully and convincingly 
about every man knowing the heart of his neighbor 
and never passing the lowest by, and not an hour 
later a man came in the lane and asked you, as you 
happened to be nearest, if he could get a drink of 
buttermilk at the house and you told him roughly 
to go about his business and then you went in and 
told Diantha you had kept one tramp from her door. 
How do you know he was dishonest and lazy and 
not deserving even that buttermilk that is thrown to 
the pigs % You did not ask him one question. He 
looked tired and ill.” 


380 


OTHER FOLK, 


I didn’t want to be troubled, I was talking to 
you.” 

It was no trouble to talk half an hour about 
him.” 

Don’t trample on me, now I’m down. I was 
born with a weak will, a sweet temper and a weak 
will. A wife with a strong will could move me as 
she would.” 

I pity the wife ! A woman has a life of her 
own to live.” 

You are hard and bitter. You have seen some 
one you like better.” 

It would be hard not to — in a world where 
strong men abound.” 

I do not drink, I have no vices, I am not a 
spendthrift. I should be a very good man in a 
home of my own with a wife — ” 

To lean on! ” 

^^Well, yes, since you put it that way.” 

I suppose there are men like you with 
strong-willed wives. There’s David Van Der 
Zee ! ” 

Do you think I would submit as he does ? ” 

^^I hope you will never be under a yoke like 
his.” 


TIfAT LAST day: 


381 


^^That sweet little daughter would never put 
any man under.^^ 

No; she will never marry a weak man 
either.” 

Do you mean that she would refuse me ? ” he 
asked in repressed anger. 

was thinking of her, not at all of you, 
Andrew; though you may find it difficult to 
believe. She has great reverence and admiration 
for strength of character.” 

That Menzies, for instance,” he said, mock- 

inglj. 

She knows him better than we do.” 

I didn^t follow you around to the hammock to 
quarrel with you, Olive. I beg your pardon if I 
have been rude. Your strength is more to me 
than you would care to know. So is Leila^s, and 
her father’s. With you three I feel that I can do 
as you do.” 

Than if you were ^ with Christ,^ you could do 
as He willed you to.” 

Yes, I know I could.” 

^^With us, you cannot, you see. You need 
something beside our strength.” 

Yes,” he assented. 


382 


OTHER FOLK. 


Andrew, I am so sorry. I have to speak the 
whole truth, since you asked me.^^ 

I did not think you could be so hard. You 
love children, and sick people, and old people — 
why don^t you love what you call my ^ weakness ^ f 
I should think it might appeal to you.’^ 

have written unto you, young men, because 
ye are strong.’’^* 

Who said that I’’ 

John, the Beloved. He was very sweet — and 
strong. He gives the three characteristics of young 
men : ^ I have written unto you because ye are 
strong, and the word of God abideth in you, and 
ye have overcome the wicked one.^ ” 

Only that kind do overcome the wicked one/' 
You see the secret of it ! ” 

The word of God abiding in them. I read the 
Bible, if that^s what you mean.’’ 

That isn’t what I mean.” 

What do you mean ? ” 

He was standing under the apple-tree at the 
head of her hammock, looking down into her face; 
she had not once, during this conversation, looked 
up into his face. His voice was as much as she 
could bear. 


THAT LAST DAY. 


383 


^^Look up into tlie boughs over your head: see 
those apples, growing into firmness and flavor and 
beauty and shapeliness; when those blossoms began 
to form into fruit, if that bough had been broken off 
away from the life of the tree, would they be fruit- 
ful boughs? That bough abides in the life of the 
tree.’’ 

I remember what I read,” he said, stubbornly. 

She would not reply. She knew she was not 
gentle with him. 

Olive, I cannot do it ; I acknowledge it. It 
isn’t in me to do it. It is sorrow enough to me ? ” 

I know that.” 

There was no upbraiding in the voice. 

Then why do you blame me and despise me ? ” 

Do I ? I think I love you sometimes ; but it 
is as I might love a child — but in a child there is 
hope — and you do not give me any hope.” 

Am I weaker than I used to be ? ” he de- 
manded. 

You know best.” 

I am not stronger. But I tell you it isn’t in 
me.” 

^^The life is in that bough as well as in the 
tree.” 


384 


OTHER FOLK, 


Giving himself an impatient shake, he walked 
away. Could a man take himself into his own 
hands and make any thing he would of himself f 
If she could live two lives and be two women, 
would she give one of those lives to this weak-willed 
man? Had not her father been a weak-willed 
man ? But having one life, and that life belong- 
ing not to herself, a life lived with Christ, must 
she not live her very best ? That would not be her 
very best. If he were a better man because of 
her, that would be because of her, not because of 
himself j it would be her life and her strength. 
John did not write unto young men because they 
had strong wives, but because they were strong 
themselves. 

There were women in the world who loved 
weak men, and made them good wives. She was 
not one of them, she said, and put the thought of 
him away from her. To-day was her Thankful 
Day. Every Friday was her special private and 
personal Thanksgiving Day. Each day of the 
week, in her life hid with Christ, had its special 
significance. Usually her first waking thought 
with its memory of the day, brought the day’s 
object. 


TI/AT LAST DAY, 


385 


On Monday she prayed for all the girls and boys 
she had ever taught, that they might live the life 
hidden with Christ in God. The other days, in 
her prayers, held all she cared for, every interest 
in her life, every interest she had in every one 
in all the world. 

Something had happened to make this day joy- 
fully remembered in her thanksgiving. 

The letter came in the morning mail. She drew 
it from her pocket to read it again, and as she read 
a hand stopped the swaying of her hammock. 

I beg your pardon, I did not notice you were 
busy,^^ said Allan Menzies. 

am not,^^ she answered, slipping out and 
dropping down on the grass j sit down, I will 
read my letter to you. I wanted to tell somebody. 
I had it to show Dr. Provost and then forgot it.” 

He sat down beside her, taking off his hat and 
putting it on his knees. 

^^He is a great friend of yours.” 

He is a dear, good friend of mine. The best 
brother in the world could not be kinder. You 
know I havenT any brother, as your sisters have. 
Nothing like this letter ever happened to me before. 
It makes me too glad to know how glad I am. 


386 


OTHER FOLIC 


Last winter when I was first recovering from my 
illness, at Dr. Provost’s house, I was reading the 
Bible, greatly in need of strength and hope, and 
something helped me. I was so helped that I wrote 
about it to a friend. She is editor of Advocate and 
Guardian^ a paper that always helps tired people 
and discouraged people and weak people — she says, 
(Pm wandering, like Diantha,) that we have no 
idea how many weak people there are in the world 
— and she puts things in especially for such, so she 
put my letter in, not in the form of a letter, how- 
ever. And to-day, you brought me the letter 
that tells me something about it. It you don’t 
mind. I’ll read it. If you care ! ” 

‘^I care very much.” 

She hesitated, rustled the sheet of note paper, 
and then began to read huskily. It was harder to 
tell him about it than she thought. She could talk 
so much more frankly to Dr. Provost. It would 
have been easier before she knew that he was not 
engaged to Virginia Graham. 

^^^Do you know who wrote that little piece, A 
Thought for a Weary Timef I think he or she 
ought to know this little history. We live about 
a mile and a quarter from Easterley, between two 


THAT LAST DAY, 


387 


large manufactories. In tlie next village north 
is a shcool-house, where for thirty years or more 
they have had a Sunday school at two in the after- 
noon and preaching at three. Always when at 
home, I have been with them, having a class of 
boys. My mother’s increasing age and feebleness, 
at last, obliged me to give it up. iNow for my 
story about something in that article. The school 
now has to be cared for by any one who is willing 
from week to week. The Assistant Superintendent 
was a young man, upright and good, but not a 
Christian. I often said to him: ^^John, one thing, 
only one thing, thou lackest.” 

uii6 I am going to attend to it some time,’^ 

he always said, but not now.” 

^ In your paper — ’ 

This letter is written to my friend,” explained 
Olive. I shall ask her for the writer’s name, so 
that I may write to her. She has given only her 
initials.” 

Then she read on : 

^ In your paper I read that article, and mother 
and I looked in the Bible to find out all the rest of 
it. It was about Paul’s soldiers. I didn’t know 
Paul had any soldiers. Mother and I studied over 


388 


OTHER FOLK, 


and over, but we couldn’t find all we wanted to 
know.’ ” 

What did you say about Paul’s soldiers ? ’’ 
Allan asked, interestedly. 

I’ll tell you some time, if I can think of it.” 
^^^Then I said to John : ^^You know all about the 
Bible ; what of Paul’s soldiers ? ” 

^ He said he would look it up. 

^ Now, to make a long story short, we then 
begun to hunt up all we could find about Paul, and 
became so interested we procured all the books and 
writings which would give us any light. John 
held a meeting to study about it once a week, then 
the house would not hold the people. Then the 
ministers of different churches came to preach. 
The result was a large gathering into the Shep- 
herd’s Fold. John and his wife soon entered the 
new way. Almost all the young girls were con- 
verted and joined one of the churches. Could that 
writer have seen the rooms filled each night and all 
the interest that grew out of that little beginning, 
how thankful she would be. Our Father knows 
my heart, how thankful I am.’ ” 

The paper rustled in her fingers ; it had not been 
easy to be so fi’ank with him. 


THAT LAST DAY. 


389 


Olive, I am learning, I have learned, I IznoWy 
that working for God, with Him, as He works, is 
the only work worth doing. I am a beginner, and 
a bungler. The Sabbath before I came, I became 
a member of the church. It was a great surprise 
to all at home. I derided Butler and laughed at 
J ane when they took that step ; I said I was as 
well off outside and meant to stay outside. The 
only work I have undertaken is prayer meeting and 
Sunday school. Here am I, send me ! I shall be 
sent into something.^’ 

I am continually surprised at the openings j 
there^s something every day.^’ 

That little work of yours was chosen to begin 
a great work.^^ 

‘‘ In such weakness I wrote it.^’ 

My work will all be in ^ such weakness/ I 
found you to tell you that I am going to housekeep- 
ing. Are you interested ? That’s a kind of work, 
isn^t it ? ’’ 

Woman^s work,^’ she said decidedly. 

But housekeeping isn^t much without a man at 
the head of it.^^ 

A quick step around the back of the old house 
arrested Olive’s attention ; while she listened, look- 


390 


OTHER FOLK, 


ing, Andrew appeared j he came to her from his 
own roomj he said he loved this little whitewashed 
room as a hermit might love his cell. 

Excuse me/^ he said, hastening toward the two 
under the apple-tree, but I have something to tell 
Miss Vanema. She was speaking of lovely old 
John and his writing to young men because they 
were strong, and just now, in packing my few 
books, I opened one at random, and came upon 
something she will be interested in ; a tradition 
concerning this same John. A youth whom he 
loved, he commended to the bishops of the church 
as a promising disciple j but the young fellow fell 
in with evil associates and was led astray ; he 
wasn^t ^ strong,’ then, Olive, and from bad went on 
to worse, until he became a captain of robbers. 
When John returned from Patmos, he heard of the 
young captain, and hastened to the robbers’ retreat, 
and allowed himself to be seized and taken into the 
captain’s presence. Think of the grand, beautiful, 
gentle, strong old man standing silent in that fel- 
low’s presence ! The robber captain, stung with 
remorse, fled away from him. I imagine John 
spoke no word j himself was impressive enough. 
With his loving heart breaking for him, the old 


THAT LAST DAY. 


391 


man hastened after him to speak of repentance and 
forgiveness. W e can imagine him saying : ^ If any 
man sin, we have an Advocate.^ The young man 
was brought back, repented, and led many of his 
band into the way of strength. Olive, isnT that 
hope enough for anybody ? 

It is a beautiful tradition — it is like John.^^ 

He went back to his packing. Menzies said, 
after a moment : 

There’s a good deal in him ; I’m ashamed that 
I had to overcome a dislike to him j he irritates me 
unbearably, at times.” 

He irritates every one, himself included. I was 
very cross to him awhile ago ; he’s very good to 
forgive me. But, about your housekeeping — ’’ 

Mine and my sister’s. Old bachelor and old 
maid are going to housekeeping together ; my father 
held his household of six children together, now we 
are to make homes of our own. 

^^The few thousands he left (Amzi needs his share, 
and Butler his, for he is to take a wife, but as I am 
not encumbered, my share will be divided among 
my three sisters) will enable us to keep on as we 
might like j so we decided to make three homes. 
It will be better for all of us, our lives will broaden 


392 


OTHER FOLJC. 


— ^unmarried men and unmarried wemen are apt to 
grow narrow, don^t you think so % 

No : it is those who have homes, who within 
their own four walls crowd all they care for and live 
for, who grow narrow, providing only for their own 
households, letting their charity end where it be- 
gins, at home. I don^t like to hear you say that. 
Marriage has a very narrowing process upon some 
women.^^ 

Perhaps it deepens them.’^ 

That’s a play upon words. And perhaps it is 
in the woman, herself 5 I don’t like to think it is in 
the divine institution of marriage.” 

Don’t say so, then.” 

I have unsaid it. Now tell me how your house- 
keeping will broaden you.” 

By making me work harder,” he said, with a 
laugh. 

As if you needed motive ! ” 

The more motives that are piled on, the more 
variety life has. Look at the faded women in these 
houses and talk of a broad, unmarried life. Aren’t 
you ashamed of yourself ? ” 

Perhaps I remarked that it depended upon the 
woman, and the man.” 


TI/AT LAST BAY. 


393 


To be personal, would a married life have nar- 
rowed you ? 

I shouldn't have sent roots out in as many di- 
rections as I have now ; but, then, I had that nar- 
rowing influence — I had a home to keep up.” 

A woman like you to talk against home 
life ! ” 

A selfish home life, if you please. To be per- 
sonal again, a life as selfish and self-seeking as 
Diantha^s.” 

As you said it depended upon the woman, you 
are simply speaking of that one woman.” 

Then I will revise my speech again : I think 
every man and every woman should guard against 
the selfish and narrowing tendencies of small com- 
munities, the home, the village, one small church, 
one large church — and give himself to the work and 
interests of the world — ” 

A man can sit at his ^ ain fireside ^ and read the 
world^s newspapers, can’t he ? ” 

Yes, if he doesn’t become too comfortable and 
sit there too long,” she retorted. 

All of which is nothing against my renting a 
small house and taking my sister to keep house with 
me, I suppose.” 


394 


OTHER FOLK, 


On the contrary, Pm very much in favor of 
that.” 

So Letty has brought herself to be. She 
doesn^t like housekeeping ; I wonder why she 
doesn^t. I used to think all women love house- 
keeping and children.” 

What does she love better ? ” 

She has no peculiar talent or taste. I sup- 
pose, take the world all around, few women 
have, or men either. I am going into the High 
School. IVe always had a craze for teaching. Pm 
a poor man, Olive.” 

Have you nine dollars % ” she inquired with 
the utmost seriousness. 

Nine and a half. Do you wish to borrow ? ” 
Not till I spend my nine. I was thinking that 
you were richer than I am. But I have a position, 
too. Situation, I should say.” 

Are you going back into school again ? ” he 
asked with some impatience* 

No j that isn^t wise. Dr. Clymer advised me 
to keep out of school. I have been engaged as 
housekeeper, in a small, but very desirable family. 
The head of the house is not a stranger, and his 
daughter is a dear friend.” 


THAT LAST DAY. 


395 


You ! Somebodj^s housekeeper ! I don^t 
like that,” he exclaimed in strong displeasure. 

But I do. It exactly suits me.” 

Cannot you live without that? ” 

I prefer to live with it. I am not proud.” 

I did not know I was. I am proud for you. 
How will you be treated ? ” 

Better than I deserve,” she said mischiev- 
ously. 

Is that all you care to tell me about it ? ” 
Come and see me, then you will not need to be 
told anything ! ” 

How much of the drudgery will you do ? ” 
Washing, ironing, scrubbing ! I know how to 
do all three. Many a Saturday I have done a 
little of all three.” 

They keep a servant, of course.” 

Oh, yes j cook and laundress, and second girl. 
As I make the third in the family, my duties will 
not be arduous.” 

When do you go to your — place ? ” 

Don’t be cross about it. Your sister will be 
somebody^s housekeeper, why shouldn’t I be ? I go 
as soon as I return from Dazey.” 

Did you answer an advertisement ? ” 


396 


OTHER FOLK, 


should not have thought of doing such a thing 
had not the work been offered me. Now I have 
teased you long enough ; I am going to the happiest 
home I ever had — Dr. Provost^s.^^ 

I don’t know how much better I like that.” 

I know how much better I like it. Will you 
take my hammock down, please ? ” 

He took it down and carried it over his arm to 
the door of the broad, breezy hall ; Miss Hannah was 
standing in the doorway of Andrew’s room. 

That makes you feel better, I guess,” Miss 
Hannah was saying. 

The voice in reply sounded as if wrenched out 
of pain. 

Miss Hannah turned, and seeing Olive came to 
her. 

^^Mr. Croft isn’t a bit well. He has the 
dreadfulest pain. It came as sudden as a stroke of 
lightning. I was in the spring-house and he came 
at the back door here and called to me. He and 
Hiram was jumping off that rock in the lane last 
night and I think he has sprained himself He 
says he didn’t sleep very weU. I’ve given him the 
hottest bowl of ginger tea ! can you think of any- 
thing to do I ” 


THAT LAST DAY. 


397 


I will find Dr. Provost/’ said Olive. 

Olive ! ” called the voice tense with pain, 

come here, I want you.” 

Olive went in. Andrew had thrown himself 
across the foot of his bed ; he raised himself and 
caught her hand. 

I don’t know how to hear pain. I’m the 
veriest baby. I want you not to feel hard — as you 
did awhile ago.” 

Andrew, I do not feel hard. I thought I must 
say what I did. Don’t you feel hard.” 

I couldn’t,” he said, with a look she never for- 
got. 

Dr. Provost was reading the morning paper to 
Leila on the piazza ; Olive caught it from him and 
hurried him to Andrew. 

An hour later Hiram dashed down the road on 
horseback, toward Monroe. Dr. Clymer was in 
Andrew’s room within half an hour; he remained 
with him two hours and returned at midnight. No 
trunks were packed that afternoon; no one spoke 
of to-morrow. Dr Provost did not leave Andrew ; 
Leila stayed with Olive. 

Olive’s pale face was pressed into the pillow, she 
slept fitfully, dreaming of pain and awaking to cry 


398 


OTHER FOLK, 


out. Miss Hannah came up at dawn to say that 
Mr. Croft had fallen asleep, Dr. Provost had gone 
to his room and she and Cousin Menzies were to 
watch. Dr. Clymer says he cannot find a better 
nurse than I am/^ Hannah said proudly, with tears 
trembling in her eyes, so I am to be with him till 
he gets well.^’ 


XVIL 

DAYS AND NIGHTS. 

** Say not ‘ Good night/ hut in some brighter clime 
Bid me ‘ Good morning.’ ” 

—Mrs. Barbauld. 

Seven days and nights 5 the changes were from 
hours of agony to a day of exhaustion ; at last came 
utter weakness / he could not lift his hand, his 
words were as low as a breath » 

^^His mother cannot get here/’ Miss Hannah 
whispered one midnight to Olive. 

Olive had come down from her chamber to listen 
at his open door. 

Would he know me if I should stand a moment 
where he could see me ? ” 

I don’t think he sees anything.” 

Olive stepped within the doorway. Andrew lay 
with his eyes closed, motionless, his lips apart j she 
was not sure that he breathed. 


399 


400 


OTHER FOLK. 


She would not see that look again 5 she would 
never see any look again. 

Dr. Provost was walking up and down in the 
starlight, within the beckoning of hand or voice at 
the door : Menzies was stationed at the foot of the 
bed, his head dropped on his hand. He did not 
stir as Olive entered. 

She stood looking down into Andrew^s face 5 the 
still work of death was upon it ; he had gone, he 
could not see her face, he could not hear her voice j 
would he know if she touched him ever so softly I 

Would it disturb him ? Was he asleep, or had 
he passed into something other than sleep ? 

His hair was like himself j she might touch that. 
She bent and with her lips touched his hair ; not an 
eyelash stirred, he did not know that she cared so 
much, and if he knew what difference would it 
make ? 

If he saw the Lord’s face that was all she asked 
for him 5 not life here, but life with Christ forever. 
Then he would be strong. 

^^Last night — ^no, to-night — about sundown, he 
whispered something, said Miss Hannah. I only 
heard that it was about a young man in a boat. I 
suppose his mind was wandering.^’ 


DA VS AND NIGHTS. 


401 


Without another look Olive stepped out into the 
hall again. Leila came down the stairway sobbing, 
and went into the little room Andrew loved j 
Olive went to the door and looked out into the 
stillness and starlight j a light was burning in the 
kitchen at Diantha^s, Hiram was coming towards 
her from the lane j but nothing was real or near to 
her, nothing save that face with its shut eyes and 
parted lips and another face — the Lord compassion- 
ate, who knew the secret of every life, and- felt 
every breath toward Him. 

If any man sin, we have an Advocate.’^ 
Another day passed, another midnight came ; the 
still work went on j and then every one went out, 
and Olive and Leila went over to the other house. 

That was Saturday j Monday afternoon the Pro- 
vosts returned to the city, Andrew^s mother was to 
meet them there ; Olive stayed at Diantha^s until 
the telegram came that Mrs. Croft had arrived, and 
then went to be with Leila the day of the funeral 
service. 

You must go to Dazey,’^ Leila said the next 
morning, ^Hhat old lady is looking for you.’^ 

I would rather not — I want to stay with 


402 


OTHER FOLK. 


Papa and I have each other, and Auntie needs 
me.^^ 

I must stay with her all I can. Olive, 
darling, you must rest somewhere. Can you rest 
there ? 

I rest everywhere,^^ said Olive. 

But she was persuaded, and that evening found 
her in the small sitting-room of the red house she 
had never forgotten. The old lady had gone up- 
stairs and was asleep, Jane Menzies would not 
disturb her, the arrival might give her a wakeful 
night. 

Would you like the room you had then in- 
quired Jane. Nothing changes in this house. 
Auntie said it was for you.^’ 

Could it be true! Was it herself? That glass 
on the high bureau with the crack in it reflected 
her face fifteen years ago ; not this face, but the 
girPs face, the face of the girl who had a crying 
spell because her father would not let her stay 
another week, as she coaxed. 

She had ‘^another week^^ now. She would be 
down in the morning as if it were the first morning 
of that week she coaxed for and cried about. 

How easily her tears came in those days ! 


DAYS AND NIGHTS. 


403 


Now slie felt as if no sorrow of lier own would 
ever toucli her again. 

Anclrew^s message to her, spoken to Dr. Provost, 
was with her every hour j she thought it was with 
her in her sleep. 

^^Tell her I was very weak — hut I prayed.^^ 


XVIII. 


ANOTHER WEEK.” 

Shall I be ashamed to give culture 
To what God has sown ? 

When nature asks bread, shall I offer 
A serpent or stone ? 

For could I out-weary its yearnings 
By fasting or pain, 

Would life have a better fulfilment 
Or death have a gain ? 

Nay, God will not leave us unanswered 
In any true need ; 

His will may be writ in an instinct 
As well as a creed.” 

—Alice Cary. 

I couldn’t live alone.” said tlie old lady. I 
tried it j I should be dreadfully lonesome if it 
wasn’t for other folks.” 

So Amzi and I had to come.” 

Yes, Jane came and stayed awhile, and I liked 

her so, I couldn’t let her go. And you can’t think 
404 


ANOTHER WEEK. 


405 


what a help Amzi is. He understands things. The 
hoy has a long head for farming; he says he’s 
going to turn my farm into a garden ; and I expect 
he will.” 

The old lady gave a contented little chuckle. 
She had come in from the garden with a small bas- 
ket of ripe tomatoes, and was sitting in the kitchen 
doorway with the basket in her wide lap. 

I want you to stay., Olive — I used to call you 
Olive then, didn’t I % — and do just as you used to. 
Make cake, if you like, and go to the spring for 
water, and help Jane do things. I don’t need much 
waiting on ; I’m as spry as a girl. I can see as 
well as I ever could. I never did use glasses. 
Glasses is for young folks.” 

Jane Menzies was tall and pale, dark and thin, 
not attractive to people usually ; she was attractive 
to Olive. Amzi was round faced, brown eyed, 
short and stout, as shy and awkward as a boy of 
fifteen. 

He was silent at the table, ignoring knife and 
fork when possible, and taking his food with a 
spoon ; his words were abrupt when he did speak ; 
when he was not at work he had a book in his 
hand. 


406 


OTHER FOLK. 


Nobody understands Amzi, but me/^ Jane 
confided to Olive, as they washed the dinner dishes 
together. Allan has no patience with himj he 
says there^s nothing in him j he is as shut up as an 
oyster with him.^^ 

Oysters are delicious when they are opened,’’ 
said Olive, carefully wiping one of the old-time 
dishes. 

Allan may care now to see what is in him. He 
has always been the most unselfish brother to us 
girls, but he let Amzi alone. Amzi felt it. There’s 
the greatest change in Allan. I never saw any- 
thing like it. I never saw a change before. I 
didn’t know any one as good and kind as he was 
before could change so. It is more what he is, thau 
what he does. I can’t explain it. It’s as different 
as light from darkness. And was so sudden ! It 
took our breaths away. The first morning after he 
came home, when poor father was so ill, he said we 
would have family prayers as usual. He took the 
Bible and read. I didn’t know what he read was 
in the Bible before. He read in a new way — for 
him, and there was something new in it for me. 
And his prayer ! It was not like a prayer. Not 
like father’s prayers ; that was something new, too. 


ANOTHER week: 


407 


It was not in phrases, the kind we hear, it was like 
somebody talking to somebody he knew, and thank- 
ing him ; it was full of thanks, and asking for some- 
thing, and telling about something. I thought if 
prayer were like that I should like to pray, too. 
It made you forget the things you wanted. It made 
you think — you know how. Can^t you imagine ? 

Yes, Olive could imagine. She heard him pray 
kneeling at Andrew’s bedside j she was standing in 
the door of the spring-house. 

I think that more than anything has made 
Amzi care for him,” Jane ran on as she poured hot 
water over her dishes, and they will get together 
now, somehow. He’s coming Friday night to spend 
Sunday. Aunt Betsey wants him to come. She 
told me to write and say that she wouldn’t take 
‘ no ’ for an answer.” 

On Saturdays, when she was at liberty, she used 
to help Miss T unison in the kitchen, this same 
kitchen, with the bare clean floor, the two small, 
high-silled windows that looked out into the road, 
the sink with its pump, the row of shelves above it, 
and the two doors, one opening into a back yard, 
where the wood-pile was, and the other leading you 
into the front yard, where the hollyhocks and rose 


408 


OTHER FOLK, 


bushes were. The hollyhocks were there now, and 
the big square flower-bed ; was there nothing 
changed beside herself? Miss Tunison, in her white 
frilled cap and broad white apron, was unchanged, 
except in age and feebleness ; everybody had to 
grow old 5 every body, not every thing j the holly- 
hocks had not, nor the two tall elms. 

If Allan should enter through that open door — 
how changed he would be. She almost was not 
willing to see him enter ; she almost longed for the 
Allan with the smooth face and brown hair ; but 
no •j she would not give up the serious eyes, the 
kindly, elderly way that was becoming so restful, 
she Tcnew she would not go back and be the girl 
again, if he must go back and be the young man 
again. 

She laughed, it was a concession 5 but it made 
her so sure of herself, and before, after all, she had 
not been as sure of herself as she wished to be. 
Now she was glad and could give thanks for the 
years, for what they had given and withheld since 
last she stood in that kitchen. 

Jane wiped out her dish-pan carefully, and hung 
it on a nail over the kitchen table ; she was Miss 
Tunison’s housekeeper ; Dr. Provost’s housekeeping 


^'ANOTHER WEEK, 


409 


was altogether a different affair. She would have 
leisure for herself, and society the most congenial, 
when she was in the mood for it. Jane would have 
Aunt Betsey to amuse and Amzi and Hiram Ander- 
son to talk to, and the neighbors would run in, and 
there would be church societies, when the feeble old 
woman could spare her ; Aunt Betsey retired early, 
she would find the short winter evenings long ; she 
wondered if there were spring enough in Jane to 
keep the fresh life continually bubbling. 

^^The new school-teacher will board with us,’^ 
remarked Jane, as she brushed the stove hearth 
with the turkey wing. Will he be pleasant com- 
pany ? ” 

He^s a book-worm,’^ said Olive. You will 
have an old lady and two book-worms for com- 
pany.^^ 

He will be company for Amzi,^’ was the con- 
tented reply. 

The old lady was taking her afternoon nap in the 
sitting-room ; Jane went up stairs ; Olive was left 
alone in the kitchen. 

Fifteen years ago what would she have done with 
herself? Then she knew the village girls and all 
the village children, now every face was unfamil- 


410 


OTHER FOLK. 


iar j her trunk was at Dr. Provost^s, her books and 
work were in it, she had nothing but herself and all 
out-doors. 

She might walk to the bridge and stand and look 
down into the brook, she might go to the hollow in 
the woods where she and Allan used to sit and talk. 
Life was full of things and people to talk about 
then j her life was not so full now ; it did not seem 
as full as when she first went to Diantha^s. 

Why, she must be lonely ! Lonely here at 
Dazey, where she had longed to come ! But it was 
not Dazey, nor the kind old lady, nor the little red 
house, it was — what was it ? Something was gone j 
the something she left that morning she was so 
sorry to go, was not here. She would be glad to go 
back to Dr. Provost’s and be his housekeeper and 
Leila’s friend. Allan would come to see Jane and 
Amzi, and go away early Monday morning; she 
would like to go away early Monday morning j it 
was fair to the Provosts’ to go to them as soon as 
they needed her. 

Jane came down the narrow stairway into the 
kitchen with something in her hand, 

Allan sent it to me in his last letter ; I thought 


ANOTHER week: 


411 


you would understand what I mean by the change 
in him if you should see it/^ 

Thank you, very much,^^ Olive said, gratefully. 

You knew him long ago when I was quite a lit- 
tle girl, he said.’’ 

Yes, here at Dazey.” 

I remember it ; he' came home that summer 
and talked about you. I remember something he 
said ; I had a great way of watching people and 
trying to be like them in those days, and when he 
said you made people care to make the best of 
themselves, I thought I would like to be with you 
and learn to do it.’’ 

Oh, I am sorry — you must be disappointed.” 

He isn’t. I asked him if you were like that 
now, and he said it was the first thing that struck 
him about you ; it was your unconscious influence.” 

But I am sure,” said Olive, remembering that 
Hiantha had not liked her and that she had done 
nothing for her, that he is an exception j no one 
else feels it.” 

I wish I could tell you how you make me feel ! ” 
returned Jane, knitting her brows in the endeavor 
to explain, no one else ever made me feel so. I 
began to feel it before you had been here fifteen 


412 


OTHER FOLK, 


minutes j you made me thrill — it was very delight- 
ful, it keeps being very delightful, I feel it all 
through my heart and lungs and head, it is the 
gentlest electricity. I slept better last night be- 
cause of it, I think you are the kind to be with sick 
people.^^ 

love to be with anybody that I can help. I 
think I was lonely just now because I could do 
nothing for somebody.^^ 

You are being something all the time.” 

That — to you. But you are another exception. 
Nobody ever told me that before. It must be 
something in the way you are made.” 

Then I am glad I am made so,” said Jane 
brightening, perhaps it’s in me to be made 
strong.” 

That’s the happiness of weakness. The grow- 
ing strong is so much. I think every living thing 
must love to grow. There’s a witchery about see- 
ing things grow.” 

Jane laid the neatly cut slip in her hand. 

You may keep it if you care for it.” 

What do you do afternoons ? ” 

Best — I have to rest.” 

Then I will go out in some of the old places. 


ANOTHER week: 


413 


Perhaps they have something left behind for 
me.’^ 

Keeping the slip in her hand, not looking at it, 
she went through the yard, climbed a broken rail 
fence and crossed a field to the hollow in the woods. 
Amzi was plowing and whistling in a field next to 
the woods. 

She did not unfold the paper for some time. It 
was all she could have of Allan until he came 
to-morrow night 5 if he were there, he would read it 
to her. 

Was it strange, was it wrong, that she could 
grow with more enjoyment having some one to 
grow with her ? She had been solitary all her life, 
no one had lived her life with her, no one had lived 
her life, they had lived their own lives beside her 5 
sometimes she had a touch of this companionship 5 
one did not have to be alone with Christ, in God. 

Christ had prayed that His disciples might be 
one : that they may be one in us.^^ 

And only His disciples could be one in us.^^ 

Fifteen years ago Allan Menzies could not have 
lived her life with her. 

Then she unfolded the paper and read it. 

^Dannecker, the German sculptor, occupied 


414 


OTHER POLK. 


eight years upon a marble statue of Christ. He had 
previously exercised his genius upon subjects taken 
from the . Greek and Roman mythology, and had. 
won a great reputation. The celebrated statue of 
Ariadne in the garden of Herr Bethman at Frank- 
fort is his work. Critics of art have given him 
rank with Michael Angelo and Canova. 

^ When he had labored two years upon his 
statue of Christ, the work was apparently finished. 
He called into his studio a little girl, and, directing 
her attent on to the statue, asked her, Who is 
that % ” She replied, A great man.’’ The artist 
turned away disheartened. His artistic eye had 
been deceived. He had failed, and his two years 
of labor were thrown away. But he began anew, 
and, after another year or two had passed, he 
again invited the child into his studio, and repeated 
the inquiry, Who is that % ” This time he was not 
disappointed. After looking in silence for a while, 
her curiosity deepened into awe and thankfulness, 
and, bursting into tears, she said, in low and gentle 
tones, Suffer little children to come unto me.” 
It was enough j the untutored instinct of the 
child had divined his meaning, and he knew that 
his work was a success. 


ANOTHER ween: 


415 


^ He believed then, and ever afterward, that 
he had been inspired of God to do that thing. He 
thought he had seen a vision of Christ in his solitary 
vigils. He had but transferred to the marble the 
image which the Lord had shown to him. His 
rising fame attracted the attention of Napoleon, and 
he was requested to make a statue of Venus similar 
to the Ariadne, for the gallery of the Louvre. He 
refused, saying, A man who has seen Christ 
would commit sacrilege if he should employ his art 
in the carving of a pagan goddess. My art is 
henceforth a consecrated thing. 

His life is henceforth a consecrated thing,’^ she 
said aloud. I can see that. Now I can talk to 
him to my hearths content.’^ 

The next afternoon the stage stopped at the post- 
office in Dazey ; Allan waited for the mail to be 
distributed, and with a letter in his hand for Miss 
Olive Vanema walked down the road towards the 
bridge. He stood a while leaning against the railing 
of rotten wood 5 a letter was in his hand to-night ; 
would this make her cry ? 

The address was in Leila^s hand j she wrote with 
a stub pen, like a man. 

But she would not come out to meet him and ask 


416 


OTHER FOLK. 


for a letter, as she did before j she would not take 
one step forward to meet him. 

Jane was at the gate watching, old Aunt Betsey 
stood on the kitchen door-stone. 

Olive came, in a moment, down the kitchen 
stairway j they had not been together since Andrew 
died, they shook hands without a word 5 both were 
thinking of him. 

At the tea-table Jane sat in Aunt Betsey^s old 
place, and poured the tea, and Amzi sat where 
Allan used to sit, next to Olive. 

Oh isn’t this nice ! ” exclaimed Jane, I wish 
it would be like this all the time.” 

So do I,” replied the old lady. I haven’t for- 
gotten how Allan and Olive used to talk and have 
fun, and I’m not too far gone to enjoy it 
again.” 

Neither are we,” said Allan. 

Did your letter bring good^news, Olive ^ ” 
asked Aunt Betsey. I don’t like letters. I keep 
mine till next day, for fear there’s something in 
them.” 

^^Mine is from Leila. I’ve told you about 
Leila.” 

You’ve told me about ’most everybody 5 I 


ANOTHER WEEKN 


417 


never see anybody that knew as many folks as you 
do. What good does it do you ? 

You like to hear about them,’^ said Jane. 

Oh, yes ; it’s like a story. Old folks and 
children like stories.” 

And young folks live them,” said Allan. 

What was in your letter, Olive % ” persisted 
Aunt Betsey. 

Nothing new. Only it is my birthday to-day, 
and she always remembers me on my birthday.” 

How old are you ? I suppose you ain’t old 
enough to be ashamed of your age.” 

“ Or old enough to be proud of it,” said Allan. 

You’ll be proud when you are ninety-two and 
can pick lima beans,” retorted Aunt Betsey. 

I am thirty-six to-day,” Olive replied, and 
I can’t pluck my first gray hair and wrap it in 
silver paper and write a poem to it,” 

That is young. Very young. Allan is young, 
too.” 

Anybody is young imder seventy,” laughed 
Amzi, who had not spoken before during the meal. 

We are stricken in years, in this youth’s eye,” 
observed the elder brother, but as age is only a 
matter of opinion, I suppose it doesn’t matter.” 


418 


OTHER FOLK. 


I hate things that are a matter of opinion/’ 
Amzi burst out j such things are not worth think- 
ing of — opinions change every half hour.” 

You contended awhile ago that pennyroyal 
was a pleasant odor in itself/’ said Jane, and that 
is only your opinion.’’ 

The ancients, whose sense of smell was culti^ 
vated in the extreme, enjoyed the odor of asafoetida, 
which is repulsive to moderns j is that only an 
opinion? Shall we cultivate ourselves up to asa- 
fcetida ? ” 

Then we would have the opinion that we 
liked it. Then, Allan, opinion is the result of 
cultivation.” 

The removal of some restraint was unfettering 
Amzi’s tongue. 

would like to know what is the difference be- 
tween opinion and truth. In other words, is Miss 
Vanema young or old to-day ? ” 

Amzi ! ” rebuked Jane, shocked. 

She knows me,” said Amzi. I knew she 
knew me as soon as she looked at me.” 

What did Leila send you for your birthday ? ” 
inquired Aunt Betsey, who had been impatiently 
holding her question in abeyance. 


** ANOTHER week: 


419 


Money. A ten dollar bill, and her father sent 
another, so my good friends have made me rich 
again.’’ 

Jane had wondered that Miss Vanema’s gloves 
should be so carefully mended, and her shoes were 
shabby, even although so painstakingly blackened. 

But you’ve got a house,” said the old lady. 

0, Allan,” cried Jane,” ^^t’s that house ! The 
house we have always delighted in, in Halsey 
Street. So old-fashioned and out of repair, and 
home-like.” 

have never seen my house,” Olive remarked 5 

it has not been my house very long. My uncle 
occupied it himself at the time of his death. It is 
to be put in excellent repair, and I have to earn the 
money to do it ; my whole year is mortgaged to 
that extent; it will be ready for tenants before 
long.” 

‘‘ Why can you not pay the expense out of your 
rent then,” asked Allan, and consider the money 
a loan ? ” 

^^But I must exist in the body meanwhile; I 
must occupy space, and I’m not satisfied without a 
seat at somebody’s table. I have tastes, also. It 
costs a great deal for me to live. In a year — be- 


420 


OTHER FOLK, 


fore that — I shall be free from debt ; as soon as my 
rent comes in, I shall pay Dr. Provost in monthly 
instalments.^^ 

And he will pay you by the month,” said 
Allan, smiling. What a thing it is to be a wo- 
man and have a head for business ! ” 

What would you have me do % ” 

It virtually amounts to this : you are Dr. 
Provost^s housekeeper, with an income of your 
own.” 

But I couldn’t live on my income.” 

Extravagant woman ! ” he exclaimed. 

Oh, I could board at Diantha’s — ” 

Or here ! ” cried Jane, delightedly. 

But I wish to do something better j I have 
been the man of the house, and I wish to do it 
again ; to hoard isn’t the aim of my existence.” 

-W* 

You have to be a working woman,” said Allan. 

I think Letty might like that — to be a house- 
keeper,” suggested Letty’s sister. 

She will like to be mine,” said her brother. 

Are you really going to get a house, Allan, 
and live by yourself % ” asked Aunt Betsey, leaning 
toward him 5 and all the bread and cheese you 
have you’ll put upon the shelf.” 


ANOTHER WEEK, 


421 


But I’ll not go to London to get me a wife,” lie 
added. 

Allan, I wish you would , said the old lady, 
with impressiveness. 

No j m get her first, and take her to 
London.” 

The old lady straightened herself and finished 
her cup of tea ; Amzi went out to bring in wood to 
fill the box ; Jane arose and began to collect the 
dishes. 

ni wipe the dishes to-night,” observed Aunt 
Betsey. Olive, you go and take a walk. I don’t 
believe you’ve been everywhere yet.” 

I’ll take her there before I take my wife to 
London,” said Allan, if she will go ! Olive, will 
you go to Laurel Lane with me ? ” 

No,” said Olive, with mischief in her eyes. 

Olive, I hope you will lay up your money ! 
advised Aunt Betsey, with unusual severity. I’rp 
laying up things for the day of adversity.” 

I should think the day of adversity would be 
now, then,” replied Allan. 

It would be with me,” said Olive. I had 
just enough money to get home. I counted it this 
morning. And if I put a quarter in the plate on 


422 


OTHER FOLK, 


Sunday, I wouldn’t have enough. It’s very excit- 
ing to be poor,” 

A penny is enough for the plate,” continued 
Aunt Betsey 5 everybody puts pennies on.’’ 

She gave Amzi and me each a penny last 
Sunday,” laughed Jane. 

Olive had said once that nothing that happened 
to her ever startled her with its newness ; she 
could look back and see the way it came. But 
something startled her that night with its newness 5 
she could not look back and see the way it came. 

They were standing on the bridge together 5 he 
had pulled a handful of mint, and given it to her, 
he remembered that she liked brook mint. The 
sunset had gone, and the twilight was going j the 
moon would soon be risen. 

Olive, were you engaged to Andrew Croft % ” 

‘'No.” 

" You loved him.” 

He did not ask the question j he stated a truth. 

" Yes, I did love him. There was a great deal in 
him. It began to come out.” 

" That last hard week brought out a great deal. 
He did more for people than anybody knew j I 
gleaned it from people he spoke of, people he 


ANOTHER WEEN,** 


423 


wislied to be remembered. He said bis money 
would do more good in Dr. Provost^s hands than if 
he had lived to spend it. He loved you.^^ 

I know he did.^’ 

Tears were near, but she kept them back. 

Do you think you would have married 
him ? 

''No.'’ 

" How do you know you wouldn't ? " 

"Perhaps I do not know. I never can know 
now. If I made a mistake, I do not know it. 
Perhaps we never do know in the present life a 
mistake like that. If I hurt him, God could heal 
him.” 

" I thought you cared for him — as he wanted 
you to. You were so gentle with him.” 

" Was I ? Can you say that ? How I have suf- 
fered because I was so hard! That last talk 
breaks my heart ; I cannot think of it.” 

" He told me j he said it was good for him 
coming from you, who were so gentle. He kept 
you away from him, he said you would suffer too 
much when he suffered. He said he was glad 
that he loved you j it was longer than you knew, 
when he looked back it was longer than he knew. 


424 


OTHER FOLK, 


His motlier was not to him what she must wish she 
had been. Arthur was her favorite.’^ 

Yes/^ said Olive. 

It was hard to talk. It was hard to listen. 

I think he hoped — he hoped for his life, he 
hoped for you.” 

She crushed the mint in her fingers and did not 
speak. 

I read to him when he asked me ; he only 
said : ^ Bead about Him.^ ” 

Tears were choking her 5 they fell, dropping 
on the crushed mint. 

It almost seems — sometimes — as if our life 
were in our own hands 5 more than once, moved by 
irresistible compassion, I was at his door to go in 
and tell him that I would love him all I could, and 
help him to be strong. I thought it might be what 
God meant. I do not know what kept me back. 
I think I was willing, if God chose it for me.” 

^^Doesn^t the love He gives show what He 
chooses for us ? ” 

I don’t know. It did not for Andrew. It did 
not show that I was chosen for him. The love 
was chosen, I must believe that ; that had its work 
to do. But I had no work to do, else it would 


ANOTHER week: 


425 


have been given me, and I should have done it. I 
know I should, God could have made me willing, 
and He did not. Love is a most purifying 
He said Yes,’^ and paused. 

Would they have talked like this fifteen years 
ago ? Had they not had lessons to be learned 
apart ? 

A letter came from Germany yesterday. She 
has married her cousin. She still steps a little 
way every day. She is very happy. I was weak 5 
I see clearly now ; I could not allow such a thing 
to happen now. If it were only my hurt, but it 
was hers, poor child ! No wonder she is glad 
to have some one show her a little natural feel- 
ing.’^ 

When you are cold, you can be very cold.’* 

Perhaps the reverse is true.” 

Naturally.” 

Shall we walk on ? I am keeping you out in 
the chiU air. How long can you stay with my 
aunt ? ” 

Leila does not urge, but she speaks of Monday. 
Mrs. Croft will be with them this winter 5 Leila 
dreads the care of her ; she does not -know how to 
be deprived of society, and society will expect her 


426 


OTHER FOLK, 


to keep herself secluded. Dr. Provost has his 
friends, hut that is not society. 

So she will be added to your list of cares.^^ 

1 am glad of that, if she will only take me. I 
am glad that somebody new is always being given 
to me 5 life would be dreary without it. I learned 
it in a few hours yesterday — I was homesick.’^ 

Are you homesick now ? 

No — not just now.^’ 

Will you be — pretty soon % 

I shall be asleep pretty soon.” 

Will you awake homesick ? ” 

No 5 for I am going home Monday.” 

He laughed and drew her arm within his. 

I will not let you go. I will hold you fast until 
you tell me something.” 

How do you know that I know it ? ” 

Then you never will know it. Tell me what 
made you homesick yesterday.” 

I did not dissect myself. That is girlish j I 
have given it up.” 

Then you know without it.” 

I don^t have to know^” she said, wilfully. 

But I do.” 

Then find out.” 


^'ANOTHER WEEK. 


427 


I am trying to — very unsuccessfully.^^ 

You may better give it up. There is Jane at 
the gate. We are very selfish.^^ 

Olive, will you tell me % 

You don’t deserve to know unless you can dis- 
cover it yourself.” 

May I put it to myself as I wish ? ” 

Yes,” with hesitation. 

May I say that it was because you missed 
somebody who was here with you fifteen years 
ago % ” 

Yes, that is true.” 

But you would not have missed me then.” 

Yes, I should.” 

Like this — ^yesterday.” 

Oh, no, no,” she answered, earnestly. 

Olive, dear, by and by, when I have a 
home for you, will you come and be my house- 
keeper ? 

It was queer that she could not speak j but he 
understood 5 he took her hand and held it. 

And then, leaving him to talk to Jane, at the 
gate, she went upstairs and did not come down 
again that night.” 

She was glad, with a very solemn gladness. 


428 


OTHER FOLK. 


She knelt down and said to the Lord: take it 

from Thee. There must be much that is hard in 
life for us both j let us not for one hour lose sight 
of Thee, or seek the will of the other before Thy 
will ; keep us both, with Christ, in God.^^ 


XIX. 


THE GOOD LAND. 

For the Lord thy God bringeth thee into a good land — a 
land wherein thou shalt eat bread without scarceness ; thou 
shalt not lack any thing in it. When thou hast eaten and 
art full, then thou shalt bless the Lord thy God for the good 
land which he hath given thee.” 

— Deuteronomy. 

Two years afterward Olive and her husband 
spent the summer vacation at Diantha’s. It was 
their honeymoon. 

Dr. Provost married her in the parlor of her own 
house in Halsey Street, and Allan^s brothers and 
sisters, Leila and MoUie, Hiram Anderson, and 
Diantha and David, with the five sisters from the 
old house, stood up with her. 

Then on their wedding journey they went to 
Diantha^s. 

The changes in the two years had come so natu- 
rally that nobody knew there were any j Aunt Bet- 

429 


430 


OTHER FOLK. 


sey died, giving the red house and all within to 
Jane, and the thirty acres to Amzi, to be made 
into a garden 5 as for the other nephews and 
nieces, they might all come and stay as long as 
Jane and Amzi was willing.” 

Finding her brothers house not as pleasant to 
live in as her father^s had been, Abby Menzies wil- 
lingly consented to become Dr. Provost^s house- 
keeper; Letty loved the country, and Jane was 
lonely in the red house, so Letty went home with 
Jane, and ^^what with taking a boarder now and 
then and doing our own work, and being econom- 
ical, we can get along,” they both assured Allan, 
when they had decided the matter between them- 
selves. 

And then Olive could have her wish and take 
Miss Hannah home with her. 

I want her to have a real good time, Allan,” 
Olive said to her husband. I don’t want to begin 
our married life by being selfish ; and we shan’t 
have quarrels for her to interfere in, as people do 
who haven’t grown old in understanding each other 
— she’ll grow young and sweet.” 

should think she would! I expect to my- 
self,” he laughed. 


THE GOOD LAND. 


431 


Hiram is still teaching the Dazey school ; in va- 
cations he becomes agent for school-books and 
travels through the country, like a pedler/^ Dian- 
tha declares. 

Leila has not yet found her vocation j she has 
not added to her knowledge of Esquimaux, although 
she has to the knowledge of several other things. 

MoUie still goes about the house like a benedic- 
tion j every time she receives a letter from Dazey 
her mother asks her to read it aloud, and Hiram is 
so much accustomed to it that he has fallen into the 
habit of writing a sheet of Dazey gossip especially 
for Diantha^s benefit. 

The old father moves about with his cane, and 
chops wood on his best days, and the old mother 
does not forget her girls,’’ and gives each of them 
her day and knits squares for counterpanes out of 
the balls of cotton Olive never forgets to send her ; 
one of the wedding presents was a counterpane 
knitted by the grateful old fingers. 

Diantha has decided that although Cousin 
Olive ” may not be what is called a spiritual-minded 
woman, she is very active in finding out what other 
folks like. 











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